Winds of History
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Family History free porn video
A History Lesson:
I had always been proud of my paternal family surname. I had a proud
family history. It was always been a bit of am embarrassment to me that
my father had agreed to preserving my mother's maiden name of Shirley as
the second part of my surname. This was particularly at school, when the
teachers were cross with me they would call me Miss Shirley or DSS
instead of calling me by my real name of Daniel Stephenson-Shirley.
So it came as something of a surprise to my mother and father that when I
got married to Jessica Paula Tracy that I adopted her surname as part of
my name and became known as Daniel Shirley-Tracy, whereas Jessica, as she
was a barrister continued to be known by her professional name of Jessica
Paula Tracy. In fact, although at first she tried socially to use
"Jessica Shirley-Tracy" so few people she knew were aware of her married
name that she abandoned it altogether.
It was because of the importance of retaining her maiden name at the bar
that I had agreed to adopt her surname and because Jessica had agreed to
adopt part of my surname. There were other famous Tracys and Jessica had
found she could neither be known as Jessica Tracy or Paula Tracy or even
J P Tracy because of other people who bore the Tracy name. So we debated
whether to be known as the Stephenson-Tracys, the Tracy-Stephensons or
the Shirley-Tracys. I was eventually persuaded that Shirley-Tracy had
more of a ring to it than the Stephenson suggestions and we agreed for
professional reasons that this would be the family name henceforward.
I was proud of the fact that I was a non-smoker (despite Jessica being a
regular smoker) and I did not drink tea or coffee nor did I drink much
alcohol nor did I do drugs. I would always insist Jessica smoked outside
and sometimes Jessica would tell me I was rather "holier than thou" about
my lack of vices and maybe I should try some vices as I might enjoy them.
I would laugh it off.
I was finding work difficult as whilst I often said I could do my job
asleep this was what I was actually finding myself doing at work. As a
result of this I would eat a lot of chocolate to keep myself awake and to
get myself through a day in the office. As a result of this I was
putting on weight. Most of my colleagues were women and most of them
would drink coffee which because Jessica also drank it I considered
something of a woman's drink. I had never liked the taste or smell of
coffee but one day Jessica suggested that I try it and that men drank
coffee too so the next day at lunch I went to the local caf? and ordered
myself a coffee.
I was surprised that it helped me both not to fall asleep that afternoon
and to discover men drank coffee too.
Increasingly I found I had to regularly explain to telesales companies
that I was Daniel not Danielle and that Shirley-Tracy was my surname not
my middle names. It didn't help that I naturally have a mezzo soprano
voice (and even when I was Stephenson-Shirley I had often got called
Shirley Stephenson). Occasionally I would grumble about this to Jessica.
Jessica would say something noncommittal like "That must have been
embarrassing for you", but Jessica had noted that whilst the coffee was
making me slimmer it was also not causing me to get any less stressed
than I was with the chocolate, in fact if anything I was getting more
stressed.
Jessica, realised that it wasn't the chocolate that was causing me to be
stressed, nor was it even the coffee. There was some kind of internal
conflict.
On one occasion after having had a bit too much to drink and complaining
to Jessica about the feminisation of my name for the second or third
time, the idea that I would look good in a bra and panties first came to
her. The first thing I knew about it was Jessica measuring my waist and
hips with a tape measure. This was slightly odd I thought. Then as she
measured my chest she said:
"Hmm, that's a 38b bra size and a size 14 dress. I think you would look
quite sexy in a bra and panties."
I was not keen on either getting into a dress or wearing a bra. I made
plain to Jessica that I thought it took a certain kind of man to wear a
bra and panties and I was not that kind of man nor was I a smoker or a
drunk or a drug user.
For now, Jessica let the idea of me wearing a bra and panties rest as she
knew she would have to introduce it a few more times and that I was not
drunk enough. She had noticed how I would start smoking her cigarettes
when I was drunk and my inhibitions were down. Jessica also casually
smoked "weed" occasionally but without me knowing about it.
Jessica later told me how she had come to realise how weed would help to
relax me more than the alcohol but I would have to be drunk before I
would smoke normal cigarettes let alone weed.
So she poured me another beer and suggested we sit down in the garden.
As I started to drink she purred as she stroked my thighs.
"What type of man, Danielle, would put on a bra and panties? A sexy man
who wanted to please his wife?"
"No, not the sort of man who would have a wife at all."
"That's rather homophobic of you, Danielle Shirley-Tracy," Jessica said
offering me a cigarette.
I refused and asked "Did you just call me Danielle?" as I had suddenly
realised Jessica was calling me by a girl's name.
"Why would I call you Danielle if it was not your name?" Replied Jessica
without missing a beat but she just let the question hang there and
shortly after that she finished her cigarette and went inside to bed. I
sat outside for a while thinking about how many people did call me
Danielle. I went inside and sat down on the sofa and fell asleep
watching the football.
Jessica did not mention her idea of me wearing a bra and panties again
for a while.
I thought she had forgotten about it.
She hadn't forgotten about it though. In fact she had acted on the idea
and gone out and bought a grey and yellow push-up bra and pantie set. It
had a grey trim around and over the outside of the yellow cups. She also
bought a pair of fishnet pantyhose, a pair of black leather slingbacks
with a 5 inch heel and a black suede bodycon mini dress.
A few days later she came home with a copy of a film called "The Danish
Girl" which had generated a lot of publicity but I had only seen posters
of it and knew nothing about what it was about. We sat down and watched
the film. I was quite surprised to realise that it was about a married
man who has a sex change. I had never previously believed married men
would dress up as women yet alone have a sex change but Jessica explained
the film was based on the true story of Lili Elbe and Gerda Wegener.
So my ideas about what constituted homosexual behaviour and what
constituted heterosexual behaviour had just hit something of an iceberg.
Only I still had no intention of wearing a bra or panties let alone a
dress.
Of course with a name like mine, it wasn't going to be long before other
people got confused about who they were talking too on the telephone and
with Jessica reverting to Tracy I started to wonder why I should not go
back to "Stephenson-Shirley," I didn't say anything to Jessica though as
dropping her name felt somehow like I was cheating on her. So I got
rather drunk.
As with our previous discussion about bra sizes and dress sizes Jessica
poured me a beer and suggested we went outside.
"I think I have a solution to your problem, Danielle," Jessica said
offering me a cigarette, which I gratefully took.
"You are too stressed out," she continued. "I think you need to kick
back a bit. You should see what it's like to wear a bra and panties.
Experiment a little, stop being so binary. Relax. Wearing a bra and
panties doesn't make you gay. You might even find it helps."
Next I watched as Jessica rolled up a cigarette, not realising that it
was weed. She lit it and passed it to me and I drew long drags on it.
"These home made cigarettes are quite good," I said. "Ok I will try your
bra and panties although won't it be a problem as you said I was a size
14 and I know you are a size 8?"
Thinking there was no way Jessica would be prepared for this problem.
"So if I can find something your size you will put it on?" Jessica asked.
"Come and see if we can find anything when you finish that cigarette."
So we went up to the bedroom and Jessica pulled out the bra and panties
she had bought for me.
"Oh look," she said feigning surprise, "it looks like this is in your
size. Why don't you try it on?"
Why not? I thought as I took off my clothes.
I sat on the side of the bed as Jessica peeled off my boxer shorts and I
stepped into this unusual yellow pair of panties with a grey lace trim
which seemed to fit me perfectly and whilst they were not anything like I
had ever worn before were not like the black or white silky panties
Jessica wore either.
Jessica had me tuck my penis between my legs as she said it spoilt the
shape of my panties and I obliged. Next Jessica strapped me into the
matching push up bra she had shown me and then pulled out some little
chicken fillet like objects which she put glue on and then stuck in my
bra cups.
Jessica told me I was wearing a push-up bra and it was designed to
enhance my assets.
I thought for a moment about how a push-up bra could enhance my penis
then I realised that Jessica meant my breasts and I looked down at my bra
and realised whatever she had stuck in them looked like breasts and my
bra did not look out of place of my now feminised chest nor did my
panties look out of place now there appeared to be a blank space where my
penis used to be. I looked like Jessica standing before me in her
underwear.
In fact Jessica was standing in front of me in her underwear as she had
reasoned that I would feel vulnerable if I was there in a bra and panties
whilst she was fully dressed so she had slipped out of her dress. We
both stood there looking at each other as Jessica asked:
"Do you feel it is unnatural for you to stand there in your bra and
panties or do they suit you? Do you feel stressed or relaxed?"
"I feel relaxed," I said. "But I feel a bit cold in just my underwear."
Jessica then passed me the fishnet pantyhose she had bought me and told
me how to roll them up my legs as she put on one of her silk dressing
gowns.
"Now, let's see if this dress fits you," Jessica said passing me the
dress she had bought me and unzipping it. "Pull it over your head like a
jumper."
I did as I was told and Jessica zipped me into the garment. Apart from
my hair and face I now looked like a woman. Now that I was dressed as a
woman the cares of the world and my job were behind me and I felt more at
ease than I had since I left school.
"Step into these," Jessica said passing me the shoes she had bought me.
"They will stop you dirtying your pantyhose."
I wobbled a bit, partly the drink and partly the height of the heels but
I soon got used to them and we snuggled up on the sofa.
The next morning I woke with a massive hangover lying on the sofa and I
screamed as I realised that I seemed to have breasts and was wearing a
dress and fishnet pantyhose. I looked down and saw a pair of high heels
which I could see were too big for Jessica and given the rest of my
attire I realised I must have been wearing. What was going on? My brain
asked. What if someone sees me like this? I started to panic.
"Jessica, what have you done to me?" I shouted out. I could taste
cigarettes on my breathe and knew that I had been smoking.
Jessica came into the room and pretended to be shocked:
"Oh my god! Daniel! How could you? Are you gay?"
"Haha, very funny!" I replied, suddenly feeling less worried.
"Be honest, do you fancy men because you are dressed just like a woman?"
Jessica asked.
"No, of course not," I replied.
"So like the Danish girl you are a heterosexual man dressed as a woman.
Now on to my second question, now that I have seen you dressed as a
woman, do you not feel more relaxed than you did when you woke up and
found yourself dressed as a woman? Your fear of being seen has gone now
that you have been seen hasn't it?"
That hit me. I was afraid of being seen when I woke and the fear had
gone now that Jessica had seen me.
"If your answer is yes, and I can tell from your hesitation that you are
trying to convince yourself it isn't when you know it is then I think I
will dare you should spend the day in the clothes you are wearing."
"My great-grandfather Stephen Stephenson would turn in his grave if he
saw me dressed like this," I laughed.
"Funny you should say that," Jessica said. "But you come from a long
lineage of transvestites. The Victorians were rather more randy than
many people give them credit for!"
With that she passed me a sepia photograph of a woman with a big cage
crinoline dress over which the woman was wearing a cuirass bodice (which
gave the impression she was wearing a corset) and the top of the dress
finished above her breasts but well short of covering much of her chest
and was held up by short sleeves no longer than a tee shirt. She was
wearing opera gloves. She had a small lapdog sitting on her lap and a
pearl necklace round her neck. I looked at her face. It was my great
grandfather Stephen.
"By the way, Stephenson was his wife's name," Jessica told me.
I felt like a boat that had slipped its moorings. My whole worldview
changed that day.
I can no longer boast that I have no vices either. Jessica realised that
although my underlying stress was caused by my need to crossdress I still
struggled to accept myself for who I am, a crossdresser or transvestite
from a long line of transvestites. I no longer made homophobic comments
and was, along with Jessica, a keen supporter of our local LGBTQ group.
So I needed my vices, firstly whilst the coffee stopped me eating too
much chocolate and kept me awake at work I needed something more than my
crossdressing to calm me down. At first Jessica introduced me to
cigarettes but she knew I needed weed as much as she did. So yes, I have
vices now, coffee, cigarettes and the occasional puff but I am grateful
to have a brilliant and supportive wife who understands that not all men
want to dress like "real men" and that some real men are sexier in a bra
and panties...
Vicky
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