At Least Wendy Believes in Harry
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From Harry To Wendy. {my Life} free porn video
From Harry to Wendy [my life]
By Samantha White
My name is Harry since the age of seven I knew that I was in the wrong
body. I always liked playing with dolls, playing dress up, I never cared
too much about guns or boys toys, I much preferred my dolls. As I was
getting older I was happier helping our mum in the kitchen or learning to
knit or sew, I loved making those small fluffy toys you could get.
Mum never minded or worried because I was still a young child, but as I
was growing up the feelings of being in the wrong body played on my mind
more and more. I never told anyone about it otherwise they might think I
was weird or something, at that time no one ever talked about anything
like that, or in fact anything else, so I kept quiet.
As I grew to my teenage years, I found myself becoming more shy than I
ever had been, all of my few friends, two to be precise, started talking
about girls, big boobs, big bums, who they fancied etc. Of course, I went
along with them we looked at 'Dirty Books' where they made a lot of
comments as they got really excited, but for me I just couldn't see what
they seemed to be seeing, when the woman was half dressed I found I was
looking at her clothes, of course, I didn't let on to them, I just agreed
with what they were saying.
When I went to any parties I was always the odd one out, I never knew how
to mix with the other boys, and if I danced with a girl, we might end up
with a kiss, but it never felt right to me, they seemed to get pleasure
out of it, but to be very honest, I felt nothing, I just didn't seem to
find that pleasure in it that everyone else did. But when we danced close
the odd time the feeling of their dresses, would make me think of what
they would be wearing underneath it all, the stockings and suspender
belts, their tight bra's, often I thought to myself what it would feel
like to wear their clothes, but again you always keep it to yourself.
I had a few girlfriends, but it never became serious on my part, we would
hold hands, kiss and cuddle but that's all, I never felt that something
everybody seems to feel, so we would eventually drift apart.
At home my parents were never worried because I was going out with girls,
so to them, everything was all right, but for me on the inside, I was a
complete mess, I was living a lie, but what lie? What was wrong with me,
the more I thought about it the more my brain got tangled up, all the
people I knew were getting engaged or married, I felt I was in limbo.
This carried on until I was twenty-four, then I met a girl we seemed to
have a lot in common, we seem to like the same things and enjoyed each
other's company, but she was divorced with one two-year-old girl, that,
of course, put my parents on guard, was she just after a father for her
child they asked? I said that she wasn't interested in getting married,
or so I believed, they met her and at first, they were not too impressed,
but as time went on they really grew to like her. It was around that time
that her daughters father, an American asked if he could take Kim her
daughter to America and raise her there, things were still quite bad over
here after the war, and she decided that her daughter's life would be
more stable over there, they all got on well and Kim was excited to go to
America to live. So that's what happened, the very sad part was that
contact with Kim slowly stopped, we found out later that her husband had
remarried and moved so there was no way of even contacting her.
Was I in love at last? I really did not know, I was never sure what love
was, I had seen the people around me in 'love' but I could never seem to
feel it, I do know that she loved me, I could tell by the way she acted
around me or cuddled up to me, but for me it felt different. I cuddled
and kissed her, held her tight when she wanted and said I love you?
After a year we {She} decided that we should get married, it was a small
affair, but it went very well, we moved into a house, they were cheap
then, I paid ?3000 for a four bedroomed house. It was going fine in a
strange sort of way when we made love, the only way I could keep aroused
was to imagine that it was me being made love to by a man, which really
confused me as I have no tendencies to be attracted to men in any way.
It was one night that my wife was working that I felt drawn to her
wardrobe, as I opened it and I saw all the dresses and skirts and blouses
hanging up, I knew I had to try them on, and I did, along with her bra,
stocking and suspender belt, panties, petticoat and a lovely blue dress
and matching shoes.
The result was unbelievable, not so much the look, but how I felt so much
at home wearing them, there was no thrill but a feeling of, this is what
I want to wear for the rest of my life, the feeling was so intense I
cried. I stayed dressed for a little while then changed back into my
other clothes. That was the very first time that I had felt right and
totally relaxed, every bit of stress drained away from me, I felt
contented.
I carried on doing this for quite a few months, then I started buying
some of my own clothes, keeping them in what I thought was a secret
place, but as you all know a woman can find things that you never knew
you lost in the first place, and always by accident. I came home from
work this evening, and as I entered the door my wife said to me, "Before
you do anything there is a surprise on our bed for you." I went upstairs
only to find all of my clothes laid out on the bed, I went as white as a
sheet, my wife came into the room and looking me straight in the eyes and
said, "Well would you like to explain"?
There was no shouting just a stare, I started to explain in a very
quivering voice, I got about half a dozen words out before I collapsed on
the floor crying like a baby, she just stood there and said, "I can
wait." Still crying I blubbered it mostly out, promising that I would
never do it again, and I would get rid of all of those close. I was still
sobbing when she said, "By rights, I should leave a pervert like you, get
rid of those clothes and I will sleep on it, you can sleep in the spare
room.
The following morning, I crept downstairs after a horrendous night, I had
put my clothes in a black bag and put them in the bin, I went into the
breakfast room where my wife was waiting, two cups of tea were on the
table, I sat down and looked at her with tears in my eyes, "Right" she
said, "Before anything, is it to do with me, or anything I have not done
for you," Tears were now coming into her eyes, "Do you want to become a
woman," she said bluntly, I started sobbing again saying, " No I just
wanted to try you clothes on that's all, I don't know why." I knew I was
lying, but I was afraid of being on my own. "Do you love me," she said. I
replied, Of course I do, I love you, you are my whole life." I knew again
I was lying, but it was just coming out of my mouth, I think through
fear.
The truth was yes, I wanted to be a woman, yes, I loved her, but not as a
wife more of a sister. I could not hurt her in any way, so the only thing
was to lie to her, it made me feel really sick inside that I was lying to
her, but it was better than hurting her.
Many months passed, my wife and I talked a lot about this thing, but she
could never except it, "You are my husband, not a woman, I am your wife,
not a lesbian." she said.
I promised never to do it again, I really believed I could stop these
feelings, but as we all know, there's not a chance in hell you can, I
tried I really did, but several months later they came creeping back, I
started to look at other women and wished I was them.
I bought some new clothes, this time I hid them very well, at every
opportunity when my wife was not around I would wear them, it was my
relief valve, if I could not have done this I would have gone insane.
The years passed, ten to be exact and life went on, I tried to be as
manly as I could when my wife was around, and when she wasn't I again
became my true self Wendy as I called myself.
It was around that time that my wife's Aunt Mary became ill, she was much
older than my wife and quite frail, so my wife asked me if she could go
down to her house as she had no one else to look after her for a few
days, now Mary lived about one hundred and twenty miles away, so I
suggested to her that I could manage to look after myself for a week, and
she could go down a spend some time with her, my wife said that she would
telephone me every night, to make sure I was okay.
My wife was over the moon that I could be so generous, she kept saying,
"Are you sure you can manage, I have got enough food in for you, if you
want anything else, give me a telephone call." I assured her that I was
quite capable of looking after myself for a week, so I sent her on her
way by train to her Aunties with a kiss and a wave.
When I arrived home I suddenly thought that I had a whole week I could
spend as Wendy,
I wore nothing but panties, stockings, suspender belt and even a bra
under my clothes, and when I came home from work, {I work in a small
office of my own,} I would put on my full-length petticoat and a nice
dress and shoes, brush my hair and put some hairgrips in it, apply some
make up, then I could fully become Wendy, at night I would wear my bra,
panties and nightdress, it was funny to answer the telephone to my wife
knowing that I was dressed as Wendy, and it made no difference to her at
all, as she couldn't see me.
That week was the very first time I felt totally at peace with myself.
I did the washing, ironing, cleaning, cooking, everything a man should
not do as that was a woman's job.
When my wife came home I was glad to see her, but deep down I resented it
because I could no longer be Wendy.
About a month or so later, my wife asked if she could visit her aunty
again, of course, I encouraged her saying that it was so nice that
someone cared enough for her to visit her so often.
Deep down I hated myself for all of those lies and false emotions I was
giving out or telling, but I just so wanted to be Wendy again and feel
that happiness of being Wendy without being judged or anything.
This started to become a permanent thing, my wife would go to her Aunties
about every six weeks, in that time Wendy would come alive, I learnt to
do my makeup, not perfect but passable which I learnt from the internet,
a started letting my hair grow, not to noticeable for a man but longer
than usual, I started secretly using day and night creams, letting my
fingernails grow slightly, I even put a dot on the calendar every three
weeks because that was when my period would be, if my wife wasn't here I
would wear sanitary towels for that week.
All the other times my wife was there, I would become Harry, I had really
started to hate Harry and everything he was.
This went on for years, I will say sometimes the strain would almost send
me over the edge of sanity, but again as I said I would not hurt my wife
for anything.
It was now twenty years down the road, my wife still had no idea, I hope,
if she did it was never mentioned.
Things had changed dramatically, people like me were more acceptable,
they were talked about as if it was no big deal, there were pills and
operations you could have to make you fully into a woman in every way if
you wanted to, how I wished sometimes that I had been born now, but I had
not.
Then with no hint of a problem my wife had a heart attack while she was
out shopping, by the time they had got her to the hospital, she had
passed, they said it was an aneurysm and that it could have happened any
time or place, there was nothing anybody could have done for her.
I was devastated, she was not only my wife but my best friend to, we had
always got on well after that first incident, we had many laughs
together, even if sex was short for her she didn't mind as long as I was
there with her.
It took me several months to get used to her not being there, but I knew
that if there was a heaven that's where she would be.
A month or so later I thought about Wendy again, this time I brought all
my clothes down, washed and ironed them and hung them in wardrobe or put
them in the drawers, with no restraints I started becoming Wendy more and
more.
It was one night that I got into bed and really thought of becoming Wendy
full time, as I thought about it the more it seemed right. I went to our
Doctors and explained the situation, she referred me to a psychiatrist, I
went as Wendy, my first real excursion out into the real world, my legs
were shaking, but I was determined to go, at the psychiatrist I was asked
a thousand and one-personal questions. I was then passed onto another
Doctor who explained that if I wanted Sex reassignment surgery on the NHS
I would have to live as Wendy for two years before they would even give
me hormone treatment to start the change off, which to me was
unacceptable for anybody.
I had already looked this up, so I knew what to expect as an answer, so I
asked if it was done privately here in England, what would the cost and
timeline be?
I had a budget, I decided that since there was only me now, I was going
to sell my four-bedroom house off and buy a one or two bedroomed cottage
somewhere where I was not known as Harry but would only be known as
Wendy.
His whole attitude seemed to change as soon as I said the word privately,
he became much more helpful, giving me all the prices, of all of the
things to be done, this included aftercare and all things which would be
required, they even had packages that the more you had done, facial
reconstruction, laser treatment, all which ranged from nineteen thousand
to twenty-five thousand pounds, with some extras. I smiled to myself as I
thought of my budget of thirty thousand pounds.
I told the doctor I would go private, within four weeks I had my first
assessment and a full medical, followed by two more assessments and then
my hormone treatment started, within four months I had my Gender
Reassignment Surgery. It took me a few months to recover properly, I had
to learn how to go to the loo again, and worst of all use those horrible
Vaginal dilation things every day, the largest one even scares me now.
A year passed, and everything went as I hoped, I now live in a small
village in the Dales, everybody here has always known me as Wendy, I've
joined the W.I. and several other groups, I feel now that I am who I
always should have been, A woman called Wendy.
Love Wendy xxx
p.s. I even have a few men friends now, because as a woman I feel
attracted to them.
Vicky
- 25.04.2020
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