Chrissie The Saga of a Lovestruck Sissy Maid
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The Road To Chrissie (Part 3) free porn video
Chapter -6-
During the drive home Chris sat quietly mostly gazing out of his window,
it was obvious that he was troubled.
When I asked him what was wrong, at first he denied that there was
anything on his mind. But after ten years of married life I knew better,
all the signs were there. The next time asked, he pointed to the bag on
the back seat and said, "Why have you bought this for me? I mean you
intend to force me into wearing them don't you?" We were close to a
small park that overlooked a lake so I pulled into the parking area. For
a few minutes we sat in silence and watched as a Duck lead her brood into
the water. "Chrissie lets start by me saying that there is no way that
I'll force you into doing anything that your uncomfortable with. That
said, I think that you do have a strong interest, albeit suppressed, in
female clothing and I think you have a deep seated desire to wear women's
attire. I've pushed you towards that desire because I think that you will
be happier in yourself once you accept this is something you need."
"But I don't want to be a woman," he'd answered. "You will never be a
woman Chrissie and it's not something that I would ever want you to be,"
I told him as I took his hand and gently squeezed it. He sobbed and a few
tears trickled down his cheeks as I drew him closer and hugged him
tightly. Finally he whispered in my ear "I am afraid you might be right."
I held him close for a few more minutes before saying that we needed to
get home.
After arriving home we unloaded the car and Chris asked did I want him to
change into one of the aprons. I told him that if he felt more
comfortable in or wanted to wear one, then I'd like him to do so. He
nodded and disappeared for a few minutes. When he returned he'd donned
the pink gingham pinafore and was carrying the headscarf. This time
rather than fastening the waist straps I suggested that he might try and
do it. His first few attempts were fairly ordinary but eventually he tied
a presentable bow. I was no longer worried that he'd be removing the
apron. I helped him with the headscarf and used several hairpins to hold
it on firmly. I was pleased to see his bare legs and his red toe nails
peeking out from the front of the sandals he wore.
He made us toasted sandwiches for lunch and being a rather nice day, we
sat out on the patio. It was really pleasant sitting there chatting and
Chris looked much more relaxed which was encouraging. There was a
question that I'd been wanting to put to him, now seemed the appropriate
time. "Chrissie, did you ever wear a dress when you were young?". There
followed a long silence as he seemed to be searching for an answer.
"Just once," he finally replied, "one day during the school holidays my
sister and I were left at home while my mother visited the lady who lived
next door. Annie, my sister decided we would play dress up. I don't
remember too much of the details, I know she gave me a pair of her
panties, pale blue if I remember. It felt so strange putting them on but
they were so soft and comfortable. The dress was also pale blue, probably
satin I recall it being very shiny and smooth, Annie said boys should
wear blue. I wore a pair of girls shoes I think they call them Mary
Janes along with some white socks with frilly tops.
"We were downstairs having our tea party, to be honest I was enjoying
myself and I felt comfortable wearing the dress even though I knew it was
wrong. Unfortunately my father arrived home and found me in the dress. He
was very angry and yelled at me for a long time before telling me that if
he found me in girl's clothing again he thrash my hide. Then I was sent
up to my room to change. That was the one and only time."
I gave him hug and said thanks for sharing his story with me.
When he started collecting the plates up he asked what I wanted him to do
after he'd cleaned up. There were the bags of clothing from the charity
shop that I wanted to sort out, so I told him to bring them up to our
bedroom when he was finished. While I was waiting for him, I thought
about his childhood experience. I had little doubt that being caught by
his father en-lemme and the extremely negative response he'd suffered,
would push any feelings about repeating his cross dressing.
While I was still think about how to progress things, Chris entered the
room with two of the bags from the shop. He asked should he fetch the
other two or would we start with these. I felt that with the amount of
things in the bags doing them one at a time was more logical. Cynthia had
indicated that things were roughly grouped in the bags.
When we emptied the first bag onto the bed we found it was all underwear.
I got Chris to work sorting it into piles before we took a closer look at
each item. In the end we had one pile or girdles, another with bras,
slips and petticoats were in the third group. The final group included a
collection of stockings, some still in their packaging and to my surprise
quite a few panties, I suppose it was because the consignment had not
been sorted.
"I remember my mother having something like this." Chris held up one of
the girdles. High waisted, it had an open bottom with four garter clips.
Made of a soft light pink fabric that felt like a satiny nylon it
featured sheer embroidered strips of nylon down the front. There were 14
small metal hook and eye closures down the front side, I imagined Chris
fastening them. He folded the girdle and took up another one, this was
also an open-bottom sarong style girdle in a beige satiny fabric. It to
featured four garters, a metal side zipper and a lace inset panel at
front with satin on backside. There'd be no problem bulges for Chris when
wearing these guys. The third one was white open bottom control girdle in
a pull on style. It had a diamond shaped lace panel at the front and
included four garters. The final one was beige coloured garter belt with
6 garters with gorgeous lace panel at the front and an adjustable back.
What do I do with these now he asked. Well they will all need to be hand
washed and air dried so put them in basket for now while we look at the
rest. We moved onto the bras. The first still wore its label, Playtex
Living Bra Bullet Bra, it was in a white fabric and extended down to the
waist. The cup size seemed quite big, perhaps even D cups I wondered
where I might get Chris some breast forms in that size, perhaps I could
contact Cynthia at the thrift shop. The next was a normal length bra in a
pink nylon like fabric overlaid with a delicate lace. The shoulder straps
were a pink satin and could be adjusted for fit. It had three sets of
eyes at the back to chose from. Like the first the cups were quite large.
The other four bras were also the same size, not surprising really, they
too were very pretty. I had Chris add them to the basket.
The next pile had 3 full slips and 3 half slips. All were in delicate
satin like fabrics and decorated with lace insets and ribbons. All fell
below the knee as you would expect from that conservative period in
fashion. The full slips had adjustable shoulder straps to cater for the
variation in hem lengths. I had no doubt that they would fit Chris with
room to spare even with his 38D boobs. They were added to the washing, it
would be a busy afternoon in the laundry.
Finally we sorted through the panties, all were full cut styles and made
from soft silky lingerie fabrics with extensive use of lace decorations.
The colours include pink, lavender, white and lemon yellow. They were
clearly for someone with formidable hips and might even be too big for
Chris, at least for now.
With the afternoon advancing and the need to hang all the washing out to
dry, I sent him off to the laundry while I sorted through some more
clothes.
The second bag I opened held an assortment of nightwear, there were
several sets with matching robes.
The first was a pale blue nylon nightgown and peignoir set. Both we made
of double layers of an opaque-ish nylon, with sheer overlay. Both
garments were full bodied, with fitted satin yokes at shoulder. The
floral embroidered satin was extra glossy Wide satin bands border the
hems & puffy cuffs of peignoir. I wondered who long it would take to get
Chris to wear it. I knew that he would, but when he did so it would his
own choice. I picked up another set. This one was a knee length Peignoir
Set with a cream housecoat and gown. The sleeveless gown had a square
neckline and was trimmed with a beautiful lace, I considered adding it to
my collection of nightwear. Next was a full length peignoir in yellow
chiffon trimmed with off white lace. It was extra frilly and fluffy
something that would be perfect for a special night. There were several
other nightdresses, a full length one in a violet silk fabric with
Appliqu? lace around the bodice and around the hem, with a second very
similar in red. This would all need to be hand washed but by now it was
too late to do them today, perhaps tomorrow if Chris had the time.
I looked out the back window that overlooks the rear garden and saw him
standing at the clothes line diligently pinning his new bras and girdles
to the line. He must have sensed me watching because he turned and gave
me a little wave. I returned to the task of sorting out the contents of
the bags.
The last and biggest of them contained an assortment of dresses, skirts,
blouses and knitwear and I decided that I'd leave that until tomorrow
morning when Chris could help me. I couldn't see Chris wearing any of
these things in the next few weeks unless things changed faster than what
I expected they would.
When I got downstairs Chris was already there in the kitchen and making
us coffee, I said to him we must do a Devonshire Tea one afternoon, he
nodded and then added that he thought he might manage that. As we sat
there I made the decision to try something different for the rest of the
day. First of all I told him that I'd do tonight's dinner and wash up
afterwards. Well he did surprise me when he answered that he'd been
looking forward to doing it himself. That was such a change from only a
few weeks ago, I felt perhaps he was becoming more comfortable with his
feminisation. I did, however, insist that I would be cooking for us and
he was to take a long bath and relax once he'd brought in the washing.
"I'll leave some things on the bed while your in your bath, it's entirely
your choice what you wear this evening." "What if I make the wrong
choice?" he asked looking slightly worried. "There is no wrong choice
Chrissie it entirely your decision and I'll respect what ever you
decide." I paused for a moment before adding, "Tomorrow if you really
want to, you can spend the day out with your mates on the golf course, or
if you would rather stay home and help with the Sunday chores, then I'd
certainly be grateful," He was quiet for a few moments before he finally
nodded and said, "OK I'll need to think about that."
He disappeared towards the kitchen while I headed for the study to do
some more research on the computer.
A quick search brought up a site on which men told their stories about
how they started cross dressing. Most seemed highly imaginative in my
assessment but some held a ring of truth. One theme which interested me
was the idea that the guilt a man felt in wanting to dress in female
clothing, could be assuaged if he could rationalise that he was being
forced into doing so. Did Chris, as I suspected, harbour a desire to be
forced into dresses, but need to be compelled into doing so. The choices
he made later on today might shed some light on that question.
Around six I sent him up to the bath I'd drawn for him. It was heavily
laced with scented bath salts, predominantly lavender, a scent that I
thought would suit him. I told him he should also wash and condition his
hair and to check if any unwanted hair need removing. There was also a
container of body lotion that he was welcome to use if he wished. Dinner
would be at seven so he should relax and enjoy, I told him. Finally I
left my kimono and his old dressing gown, which I hadn't thrown out, on
the bed for him to choose from.
I set our dining table with our best diner set, some glasses and
cutlery. I lit several candles and dimmed the lights, setting the scene
for what I hoped would be a romantic evening. With some appropriate music
playing in the background I began to prepare my special diner.
As the hall clock softly chimed seven Chris appeared and I was delighted
to see that he'd chosen to wear my floral kimono. He smiled softly saying
"Is this suitable?" as he held out the skirt. I notice that he'd found a
pair of silver sandals of mine and was wearing them, his red toenails
poked out from the front. I gave him a hug and told him, "Absolutely."
Then handed him a glass of white.
Chris sat down and I brought out the first course Seared Scallops with
Red Chile Paste and Fennel Salad. We ate for a few minutes before he
spoke. "Delicious, I would love to be able to make dishes like this," I
told him there was no reason he couldn't do so and probably do even more.
After we finished our scallops we sat and sipped our wine listening to
the background music and enjoying the moment. "I'm so glad you picked the
robe over your tatty old dressing gown," he grinned as he told me,
"That's nice to know because I threw it in the bin myself this time," I
was dying to find out what he'd chosen to wear underneath, but I would
have to wait a little longer.
Desert was a Cr?me Br?l?e which I served with a slightly sweeter white.
We made small talk for a while before I asked him what he'd down with the
things he'd washed. "I wasn't sure what you wanted me to do so I cleared
out a drawer and put them into it." He paused before saying, "It was one
of my drawers of course."
he then added that he was thinking of moving more things into the spare
room. Your not thinking of moving in there yourself I'd asked him. He
looked at me with a feigned expression of hurt before grinning and
saying, "Not unless you want me to."
To finish the meal I brought in a cheese board and a bottle of Tokay. By
the time we'd eaten that and finished off the Tokay it was approaching
nine. When I asked what we should do, he answered by pointing upstairs.
"I'll have to clean up first," I told him. "No don't worry about that,
I'll do it first thing in the morning," he said taking my hand. I blew
out the remaining candles and turning off the lights we headed for the
bedroom. I felt a real sense of anticipation as I followed him up the
stairs.
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