I cannot help myself. I cannot resist putting on dresses, skirts/blouses, nightgowns, wigs, high heels with all the complete feminine undergarments; panties, bra’s, corsets, pantyhose, garter belts and stockings. I have become totally addicted, including lipstick, lip-gloss, eye shadow, mascara, eyeliner, and jewelry.
This is the contents of my closet at home. A complete total feminine wardrobe in every respect.
The closet I always dreamed of. The one where Mommy, Sister, Wife, Mistress or Daughter would lead me over to. The one where I would be asked.
- “Whose clothes are these?”
- “Who brought these clothes?”
- “Who went in stores (like Forever 21 or Charolette Russe) dressed as man, picked them out and tried them on before they brought them?”
After confessing that all the above was true. They chuckled and giggled as they selected my bra, dress, corset, high heels and wig. Told that I must dress in the clothes and model myself in front of them. It was time to be shown my place.
Oh, the shame, humiliation and embarrassment of having to dress this way in front of them as they laugh, gloat, and bask in enjoying the total power and control they have over me. I am their weak helpless submissive. They know it and I know it.
For my closet of shame, humiliation, and embarrassment is a double turn-on for me. The wearing of the clothes coupled with the humiliation. It creates a turn-on beyond anything I can resist. So I dress myself from head to toe in their presence ready for even more punishment.
I own the closet I dreamed – it is PERFECT.
OH NO, it isn’t.
It lacks one more dress. The most spectacular feminine dress that a girl wears. The closet needs that dress. I have wanted to wear that dress my entire life. The time is coming to wear the ULTIMATE FEMININE DRESS complete with all the accessories.
The dress now hangs in my closet. A reminder of how weak, helpless, and enslaved I am to my desires. If I have to name the dress, you haven’t looked very hard.