degradedsissy1: That moment after you’ve appeared before your wife, for the first time, dressed in p
degradedsissy1: That moment after you’ve appeared before your wife, for the first time, dressed in pantyhose and high heels, makeup and a pretty dress…You’d been dressing up since childhood.The initial curiosity about women’s clothing, became a habit - a constant urge, then a phase - and ultimately an overwhelmingly powerful addiction.You’d told yourself that when you got married the urge would go away. You’d just stop doing it. It didn’t.Having thrown away your own stash of sexy hosiery, lingerie, dresses, heels, makeup, jewellery - you couldn’t help, in the constant presence of her clothes and hosiery and lingerie, but try them on behind her back. For fear of discovery, you began buying your own things again - pantyhose, stockings, panties, bras, heels, dresses, skirts, blouses.You’d “work back late” and just so you drive about in your pantyhose and girlie things. Those walks in the dead of night, feeling the evening air, and the swish of a hem around your stockinged legs - it was intoxicating. You began inventing business trips to find the opportunity to dress up in your girlie clothes for a few days - even going out shopping or sitting in the hotel bar, absorbing the stares and whispers, but wallowing in your effeminacy.But you felt a fraud.You wanted your wife to embrace the girlie you.You wanted to wear your stockings, pantyhose and dresses everyday and feel pretty and girlie in front of your wife.Ever so tentatively, you raised the topic of crossdressing with her a few times, only to have it dismissively shut down.“If I were married to a man like that, I’d be off the scene in no time”, she once said. You began to conjure the fantasy in your mind that if you dressed up in your sexiest dress, carefully applied your makeup to make yourself as pretty as possible, and showed your shapely in sheer, glossy pantyhose and some pretty high heels, she could not help but be overwhelmed by how good you looked.Apprehensively, you waited in the dining room for her to come home from her Saturday shopping trip.As she walked through the door, you stood up uneasily in your heels.Suddenly, their you were, before your wife, dressed like a woman in pantyhose, high heels, a pretty dress, a wig and makeup. It was a huge rush but also gave you an intense nervous nausea in your stomach and a feeling of shame to be standing before her like that.How would she react?Would she smile and accept you?Would she be confused and try to understand it?She glared at you.“My god!“I’m married to a queer; a transvestite; a faggot."This explains a lot. "Well, I’m sorry, Tinkerbelle, but I’m not a lesbian."I need a real man, not some fairy who wants to dress up in women’s clothing. "I’ve felt for some time that you fall well short of that…”…the shaved legs and body hair; the increasingly effeminate demeanour; the excessive interest in my clothes, instead of me.“This is not what I signed up for when I walked down the aisle with you."This little charade is over. I’m outta here."I’ll pack some bags tonight and arrange to get the rest of my stuff later in the wee when you’re at work."Good bye, princess”. It was much more brutal than you had imagined possible.Crying like a girl, you tottered quickly into the neighbouring Ron as rears gushed down your painted cheeks.Your marriage and the life you’d know was now over, but how dramatically would it change?Would she tell family and friends that she’d been married to a transvestite who liked to dress in women’s clothing?How far would knowledge of it spread?Would people at work find out and would it affect your career?Would you become a laughing stock and the butt of jokes?You future was now so uncertain.You feel insanely ashamed in your dress and your pantyhose and your high heels, and sick to the stomach.But, perversely, there was an intense rush of erotic arousal at your own personal destruction; at the moment of your most intense humiliation.As you began to pleasure yourself through the your dress and your pantyhose, you realised just how pathetic you’d become. -- source link