degradedsissy1:I love the moment of surrender here - the variety of diverse feelings and emotions
degradedsissy1: I love the moment of surrender here - the variety of diverse feelings and emotions it unleashes. There is a paradoxical sense of comfort and security that accompanies her making herself vulnerable to him. For many of us sissies it is something we can truly relate to. By letting go of the contrived, masculine independence, assertiveness and assuredness we are conditioned, from a very young age, to believe is so vital to being the man we eventually realise we are Incapable of being, there is a weird feeling of comfort and relief that overcomes us. There is a feeling of comfort that comes from submitting yourself to the control and nurturing of another. There is a feeling of liberation that comes from giving up the pretence of being the man we tried so hard, but failed so miserably to be. Many of us grew up in an environment where we were constantly be challenged and left to our own devices. It was part of learning to be a man. There were those rough boy games we weren’t much good at and didn’t want to play, but we were told to ‘toughen up". I always found it easier, when I got into a conflict with another boy, at school, to give up. I learned to live with being called “weak” and attracting perforation terms like “Nancy-boy” and “sissy”. Whilst my initial reaction to being challenged, I would nearly always end up in the bottom in a fight and usually felt a sense of relief when I surrendered. Quite often, some of the girls would come over and console me afterwards. Although it was humiliating to be seen as such a weakling, the was a soothing reassurance to being comforted by them, which I found pleasurable. To me the spoils of defeat were always preferable to the spoils of victory. If I ever won, and those occasions were extremely rare, you feel this pressure to repeat the success. There is thus constant insecurity that goes with winning. I always looked the girls with some envy. There wasn’t this pressure to compete and succeed. It was a more nurturing , mutually supportive, reassuring culture most of the girls seem to have been brought up in. It was a culture in which I felt so much more comfortable. They could express themselves so much more creatively. They could do things with their hair and makeup to make themselves look pretty and to reflect their moods and feelings in do many different ways. And they got to wear clothes that offered so much more variety and colour, and that were made of such delightfully different textures and materials - the clothes that aroused a longing in me that became a powerful, all consuming obsession. Although I don’t think I ever yearned to be a girl, I did envy the clothes they got to wear, the things they got to do, the way they got to express themselves and the nurturing supportive culture in which they were raised, rather than the relentless pressure to compete and be the best. So, for me, the moment of surrender has always had a certain dark beauty about it. It’s where you let go of the things you thought were important- your pride; your independence; your pretensions to ‘masculinity’; your self respect even. Yet at that moment - the moment you let go - there is also a powerful sense of comfort and relief that overcomes you. A feeling of no longer having to live up to something you can’t live up to. The fear of failure is gone. As sissies we experience this a great many times in our lives, in a great many ways. From the first time we surrender to the temptation of trying on a pair of stockings or panties out of curiosity; through when we start to admit we actually enjoy it more than we should; through when we start to reveal ourselves to others crossdressed; through the first time we take a man between our panted lips or our virgin cheeks, we are constantly surrendering. Whilst gays have largely achieved a level of social acceptance, transvestites, crossdressers, sissies, still suffer a great deal of social exclusion, ostracisation and ridicule. Many of us deal with it by surrendering to it and embracing it. By exposing ourselves to shame and ridicule in public, on the Internet, in our most humiliations outfits and in humiliating situations, we are letting go of our delusions and pretensions and embracing our fears. The shame is strangely liberating. I, for one, don’t enjoy intimacy with men. I don’t enjoy having a man inside me. Yet I savour that moment of defeat, when I surrender and give in to him. When an attractive woman sees me dressed in women’s clothes, on a leash, or in some way. Subservient to a man, there is an intense shame, yet a powerful relief at not having to pretend to be a 'real’ man to her. Whether it us pity, amusement, contempt or disdain she feels for towards me, I embrace them equally. I know this doesn’t reflect the situation for all sissies, transvestites and crossdressers, but I also know there are many of you who feel the same - whether we like what we are surrendering to or not, the moment of surrender is something that fills us with a strange, but pleasurable, comfort and warmth. This scene exudes those feelings and emotions beautifully. -- source link