Crossdressing Charlie Episode 6 The Tennis Uniform
- 3 years ago
- 20
- 0
Anyone For Tennis? Part 3 free porn video
It seemed no time at all until Monday morning arrived. I dressed in
teen bra, knickers and stockings before slipping on a shirt and
stepping into a pair of trousers. Although wearing the teen bra was
very different from having the big bouncy boobs I'd had over the
weekend, when I checked my appearance in the mirror it did look from
some angles as if I had some tiny titties. I wished they were real! I
put my falsies and the full-cup bra in the bag with the other clothes I
was taking to work, as well as the heeled shoes.
As I walked to the office in my flat-heeled male shoes, I realised that
my bottom did not feel as prominent as when I was wearing high-heels.
And it didn't move in such a feminine way, either! I would have to buy
some heeled shoes to wear around the house.
I was about halfway to the office when I realised that I hadn't covered
the contents of the bag I was carrying. What if anyone noticed the
falsies, bra and shoes? What if I had to explain...? I was only taking
short breaths now. Butterflies in my stomach. Still several minutes to
go yet before I reached the office. A lady was coming in the opposite
direction. A little older than me. Well dressed and looking confident.
I slowed down, willing her to look in my bag. But she walked past,
apparently not interested in what I might be carrying. I picked up
speed again. But there was a slight stiffening in my knickers at the
thought of what might have been.
Helen was already in the general office. Perhaps she was waiting for
me. I handed her the bag. She looked inside, checking what it
contained. "No more boy pants?" she asked quietly. I shook my head.
"Good girl," she said quietly with a little smile. She took the bag
into her office.
It seemed more or less a normal day work-wise. I was conscious of the
fact that I was wearing a bra and stockings with suspenders under my
male clothes. I wondered if the girls in the office knew. But nothing
was said.
After lunch Helen came over and stood beside my desk. She put her hand
lightly on my back. I realised that she was checking that I had my bra
on. She leant forward as if to look at what I was working on. Her
fingers traced the outline of my suspender clasp through my trousers.
"Well I'm pleased that you are wearing your bra and stockings," she
said quietly. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in a dress?" Startled,
I turned to look at her. Our eyes met. She gave a little smile, then
straightened up and began to walk to her office.
I followed her. Helen closed the office door behind me. "Right, get
those boy things off," she said. I stood in my bra, knickers and
stockings as she put my male clothes on a hanger and put the hanger on
a hook on the wall. "I'm glad you brought your falsie boobs in this
morning," she said. "The dress will fit better if you've got a bust.
Now to make them feel more natural for you, I'm going to glue them on.
OK?" I nodded. Probably it wasn't really a choice. I unhooked my teen
bra while she prepared the falsies. She wiped my chest with some
special cleanser, then sprayed adhesive onto the false boobs. She
carefully positioned one on my chest and told me to hold it in place
for a few moments while she positioned the other one. After a minute or
two she helped me on with the bra. In those moments before the bra
supported them I realised how heavy they felt hanging on my chest.
"You need a little make-up on," said Helen. She applied lipstick and a
little blusher. "No time for a make-over," she said with a smile. She
helped me into the dress and fastened the long back zip. I slipped my
stockinged feet into my heels. "Right, back to work," she said.
A little nervously I opened her office door and walked the short
distance to my desk, avoiding any eye contact with the other office
girls. No-one said anything to me as I sat down and tried to pick up
what I was working on before. After a short while I noticed that there
was more chatter and more laughing than there had been in the office
earlier. I glanced around. The girls all seemed happier. More relaxed.
A couple of them caught my eye and smiled. A friendly smile. As if they
were welcoming me as "one of them". The office was now an all
girlworkspace.
"Did anyone watch the tennis?" asked someone. "There was some
recordings of the old days when the ladies wore those frilly knickers
like Didi had on when she played." There were a few giggles. "And did
you see the ladies on their service game?" said someone else. "Some of
them would select a spare ball and stick it in their knickers ready for
a second serve if needed." "What about you, Didi?" asked another. "Do
you tuck your balls in your knickers?" Everybody laughed at this. I
tried to smile. Even before that last quip, the subject of lady tennis
players had caused something to click in by brain. Was it just the
memory of recent events or was there something more? A dream, perhaps?
Whatever it was caused me to get a huge erection. I could see that it
was lifting the front of my skirt. Hopefully no-one else could see this
while I was sitting at my desk. I desperately hoped there would not be
a reason to get up from my desk... I tried to concentrate on my work,
hoping the erection would subside. Gradually it did.
"Are you staying all night?" I looked up. Susie was standing next to my
desk. Everyone else seemed to have left. I had been concentrating on my
work so much that I hadn't noticed. "Oh," I said, jumping up. "I have
to get changed." I went across to Helen's office.
The door was locked.
What was I going to do? Susie could see I was starting to panic. "Would
you like me to see you safely home?" she asked. Gratefully I nodded.
As soon as we opened the door to the street I could feel that it was
much cooler outside than in the office. I shivered a little. I also
realised how short my skirt was. For walking out in the street, that
is. When wearing stockings. I could feel the coolness on my bare
thighs. "I think we need to get you a coat," said Susie. She must have
noticed my reaction to the cool evening air. "Let's go via the shopping
mall." It was much warmer when we stepped inside the mall. But we were
on the upper level and I couldn't help feeling that people on the lower
level, if they looked up, would be able to see up my skirt. We entered
a department store and I chose a raincoat. Not a heavy coat, but at
least it was another layer. And longer. I put it on as soon as I had
paid for it. Much less risk of flashing my stocking tops. Or even my
knickers.
Now more confident of not revealing my sissy identity, I relaxed and
began to enjoy a bit of retail therapy, encouraged by Susie. She helped
me choose a few dresses and skirts, tops and blouses. A couple of
nightdresses. And more underwear. Stockings in various colours. And
more knickers, of course. Also in various colours. But mostly pink. We
went to a restaurant in the mall and had a meal. And a couple of
glasses of wine.
Back at the apartment, Susie helped me hang up my purchases. I had to
take out some of my male clothes to make room. Also I needed the coat-
hangers to put my new dresses on. "I think you need to get rid of some
of the clothes you aren't going to wear very often," she said.
"There'll be some charity shops that would be glad of them." "Now would
you like me to call by in the morning so we can walk to the office
together?" she went on. I nodded. "Only if you're going to be wearing a
skirt again." After only a moment's hesitation I nodded again. "That's
good," she said. "After all, you do have nice legs. I couldn't help
admiring them when you were playing tennis."
At the mention of the tennis episode I could not help myself. Within
moments a throbbing erection started to lift the front of my dress.
Susie laughed. "I'd better leave you to deal with that," she said.
"I'll see you tomorrow." She was still giggling as she left the
apartment.
I took my dress off and put it in the wardrobe. I resisted the
temptation to touch my cock as I walked around the apartment in my
underwear and heels to prepare myself a gin and tonic. I looked at my
reflection in the wardrobe mirror as I sipped my drink. I liked what I
saw. I put the glass down while I pulled my knickers down to my balls.
Soon afterwards I had pulled my knickers up again and was sitting down
drinking gin and cum, like the night before.
I was feeling tired now. I took off my shoes and stockings and my
suspender-belt. I kept my knickers on. I had managed not to soak them,
there was just a tiny cum stain. I took my bra off and saw that the
falsie boobs were still firmly attached. So I decided to wear the bra
in bed after all. I put one of my new nighties on and got into bed. I
started one of the CDs playing. I soon drifted off to sleep with the
soothing music. There might have been a woman's voice speaking
something softly. Or perhaps that was just part of a dream.
When I woke the next morning it took a moment or two to remember what
was different - that I had boobs attached to my chest. I got out of bed
and removed my bra. I examined my boobies. They were still firmly
attached. And they were quite large. Not unnoticeable. I didn't really
have a choice about what to wear for the office, even if I had had
doubts. I shaved and had a shower. It was quite a pleasant sensation to
have a shower when I had boobs. I only wished they were real.
I had only just got ready to go out when Susie arrived as promised. I
thought how pretty she looked and was pleasantly surprised when she
said how nice I looked. I replied a little awkwardly that she looked
nice too. I wished I had voiced my first thoughts on seeing her. It
felt almost natural walking to the office in a skirt and stockings
alongside Susie. But I thought I would be nervous about walking the
journey alone.
I sat at my desk and started work. The other girls smiled as they
arrived and treated me quite naturally, as if I had always gone to work
in a dress. About mid-morning Helen called me into her office. She shut
the door and asked me if I was OK. I said everything was fine. "And are
you still thinking about those tennis knickers?" she asked. I couldn't
help myself. It was if a certain part of my anatomy was programmed to
react to the subject of tennis and associated items of underwear. In no
time at all the front of my skirt was being supported by the tent-pole
in my knickers. "Oh, dear," said Helen. "We'd better deal with that.
Hold your skirt up." As she pulled my knickers down I noticed that
there was already a glass conveniently placed on her desk. Moments
later, as my erection was rapidly subsiding, she held the glass to my
lips. "Now drink your sissy-juice while it is still warm."
She told me to continue holding up my skirt. I couldn't see what she
was doing, but I felt her wiping the end of my cock with a tissue. Then
she fitted something behind my balls and inserted my shrivelled cock
into some sort of tube. I heard a click, like the sound of a padlock.
She pulled up my knickers. I didn't need to be told that she had locked
me into a chastity device. She handed me a key. "Here you are," she
said. "I've got a spare just in case you lose it. Keep the device on
while you're in public. It will prevent any skirt-lifting like we saw a
few minutes ago. There's no room for any growth, so if you get any
naughty thoughts it might get uncomfortable. But you won't give the
game away to anybody watching." I could see the benefit of this,
although I was a bit nervous about how uncomfortable it might get if a
certain game was mentioned. "Of course," continued Helen, "when you're
in the privacy of your own home, you don't need to wear it. Just put it
on when you're pretending to be a girl. You don't need it when you're
just being your sissy self."
She handed me some more CDs. "Here's some more bedtime music to help
you sleep," she said. Of course, by this time I was aware that there
wasn't just music on the CDs. I knew that there was a woman's voice
giving me subliminal messages. Encouraging my sissy feelings and
behaviour. Maybe even persuading me to listen to more of her messages.
But I DID want to listen to more. I did want to become more and more
sissy.
And as I walked back home with Susie that evening I couldn't help
reflecting you much had changed so quickly. Who would have imagined a
week or two ago that I would be walking along the streets of my home
town in a skirt and stockings, my high heels clicking on the pavement,
my boobs gently bouncing with each step. And with my cock safely locked
away as a further denial of my maleness, with just my balls enjoying
the silky softness of my knickers. As I arrived back at the apartment
Mrs Lacey was just saying goodbye to her niece Nikki. Or was it Nicky?
She was a tall girl with a quite short skirt and long legs. She smiled
and said "Hello". She was wearing trainers and short socks. Perhaps she
was a sporty type - she wasn't very curvy. "Nice to meet you," she
said, "but I must dash. I don't want to miss the start of the tennis on
TV."
She had said the T word. For the first time I felt what it was like
when your cock is trying to get hard but is trapped inside a tiny
space. There was neither width nor length inside the chastity device to
allow any swelling at all. There was a strong squeezing sensation. And
a feeling of..., well, helplessness. But at least the front of my skirt
wasn't being lifted up. No obvious cock in a frock.
The swelling subsided and the squeezing sensation reduced. My cock had
given up the struggle. This time. (Only later did I discover that it
was possible to have ejaculation without erection. Sissy seepage.
That's when I started using panty liners.) Mrs Lacey must have noticed
a slight change in my facial expression at the onset of the squeezing
sensation. "Are you OK, dear?" "Er yes," I replied. "but I think I'd
better go to the toilet." I opened my apartment door and slipped
inside, locking the door behind me with some relief.
I removed my outer clothes and got the key for the padlock from my
purse. I pulled my knickers down my thighs and saw the chastity device
for the first time. it was in pink plastic and could only be described
as tiny. No wonder my cock felt squeezed at the slightest onset of
growth. It occurred to me that it was probably only possible to put it
on when one's cock was in a fully shrivelled condition. Like it would
be after it had been completely milked. I found my hands were shaking
slightly as I unlocked the padlock. The device came apart quite easily.
I removed it and pulled my knickers back up. I felt my cock begin to
expand a little as it luxuriated in the comforting silkiness of my
knickers. Helen had given me the little storage box for the device and
the accompanying set of instructions. I read them and followed the
procedure for cleaning the device after use.
I walked around the apartment in my heels and underwear, enjoying the
sensation of not wearing the device. Being "my sissy self" as Helen had
described it. I made myself a gin and tonic and started preparing my
meal. While it was cooking I switched on the TV and sipped my drink. I
changed the TV channel and (of course) the tennis was on. Ladies
doubles. But no fancy knickers on display. Apart from the ones I was
wearing. I felt a little weak, as if all my bodily energy was being
pumped into my throbbing erection. My cock was so hard and so nearly
vertical that it was with some difficulty that I managed to direct all
the cum into my gin glass. I drained the glass, enjoying the warming
sensation of the alcohol and the sissy sensation of swallowing cum. I
replenished my drink. I wanted another drink anyway, but it was also
necessary to ensure that any remaining cum would be washed down my
throat. Somehow I knew that a sissy must swallow it all...
That night I dreamed that I was playing tennis with a group of girls.
They all had shapely busts, but were all wearing shorts. I too had
bouncy boobs, but was wearing a short tennis dress with frilly
knickers. Not white knickers, but pink ones. One of the girls explained
that boys prefer pink knickers. "If you're going to wear knickers, why
wear boring white ones? Wear pink and show how much of a sissy you
are." After a while (in my dream) Mrs Lacey's niece Nicky turned up.
She was wearing a tennis dress. And when she bent down to pick up a
ball, I could see that she was wearing pink knickers...
Lianne
- 18.10.2020
- 18
- 0
