It is good for sissies to talk to other sissies so I am often in the "Sissy Chat" room at http://www.crossdresserchatcity.com If any of you sissies or women (or men too!) want to join in, be sure to say "Hi" to jackiesissy (that's me!).
Anyway, this budding sissy asked what might be a good next step for him in becoming feminized. The little sissy had recently moved into his own place and the only panties he had were ones he had "borrowed" (i.e. stolen). I suggested that he should go shopping for his own panties in public. That seemingly simple suggestion prompted a lot of discussion and gave me the idea to write this first of a "...for Sissies" series that I like to call "Shopping for Panties ...for Sissies". Part 1, "What is the best place for a sissy to shop for panties?"
Of course you could shop online and buy all the panties you want without having to go through the stress and exposure of shopping in a store. But the trouble is, you miss out on the thrill and exposure of shopping in a store! Shopping online accomplishes nothing, but shopping in a store is to publicly admit that you are a sissy. Plus, you get to see and feel (and maybe even try on!) all the pretty things before you buy.
The best place I have found for a sissy to shop for panties is the mall department store. My current favorite is JC Penney. I used to love Dillards but they are no longer open at my local mall. Department stores have a good selection as well as good prices. Lingerie stores like Victoria's Secret are nice but expensive, and the selection is more limited to the sexy panties for younger (and smaller) women. Discount stores like Wal-Mart are inexpensive but mostly lack quality and selection. And of course, there is the checkout problem.
At a discount store you have to take your selections to the front and stand in a long line of people with all kinds of things and buy a basket full of panties from a person used to ringing up a variety of items while people behind you observe everything that is scanned. But at a department store you can make your purchase right there in the lingerie section from a woman that sells panties all day and where the other customers are all buying lingerie. The lighting is softer and the people behind you in line are behind you, not beside you, giving a modicum of privacy. The department store purchasing experience is far more pleasant.
Another plus is the sales associates working in the lingerie section. I have found that without exception they really mean it when they ask, "May I help you?" If you are nervous or just want to look, the best response is a polite, "Not at the moment, I'm just browsing, thanks." You will see that she just accepts it as business as usual, which helps you to do the same. I'll talk more about interactions with the sales staff later.
So go to a mall or shopping center a little outside or your local area, enjoy walking around and shopping in various stores, and then go into the Penneys or Dillards or Macy's lingerie section, and enjoy shopping for panties!
Next issue: More on demeanor, interactions with staff, and how to relax and enjoy the experience in Part 2, "Act Natural, Everybody Knows the Panties are for You." Stay tuned!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Miss Barbara's Husband Slowly Becomes Feminized
Even after all that had happened things continued on pretty much as normal. At least "normal" for a marriage in which the husband is addicted to pornography and is slowly being feminized. As for the porn habit, Miss Barbara somehow knew what to do, how to help me. I overcame that addiction and have been over it for years. And the truth is, I don't want to get into a lot of detail about it, for several reasons.
One, I want this blog to be more about becoming and being a sissy and not about getting over addiction to pornography. Another is that I am not interested in getting too "hard core" in my posts and going into detail would necessarily become more sexually explicit than I am comfortable with. And lastly, it is just embarrassing. I am embarrassed about the things I used to do and the failings and weaknesses involved, so I don't want to lay it all out here. True, because of the role it played in my becoming a sissy, it must be addressed to a certain extent, but the details are for other times and places.
Miss Barbara began a subtle and suggestion-based encouragement of my steps toward feminization. Like when she suggested that the best time to wear a bra was on weekends. It turned out she was right and it soon came to feel natural. When I said I was afraid a bra would show thorough my shirt, she suggested I wear a camisole over it. Soon I was wearing bras and camisoles most weekends, holidays, vacations.
One day we were in K-Mart of all places, walking by women's sleepwear when she said, "Do you think you might like to sleep in a nightie?" I was a surprised by the question but immediately knew that yes, I would probably love sleeping in a nightie! I ended up picking one out (baby blue nylon, sleeveless, knee-length), trying it out that night and have worn nighties to bed ever since. I have quite a few of them now, at least seven that I can think of, probably more.
And then of course, that first maid dress. There was a Fredrick's of Hollywood at the mall and as we were walking by it one day, this maid costume in the window caught my eye. Not a real maid dress but the cheap, sexy costume kind. I had barely seen it, not even had time to really think anything about it, and Barbara said, "Maybe something like that would be good for you, you know, for fun." I sort of laughed it off and said something about how that little thing would never fit me. She laughed too, but said something along the lines of, "No, not that one, but something like that. If you want to dress up it might as well be as something useful."
Over the next couple of weeks we decided that I could dress up as a maid at home, at times when Barbara was not there. And it was understood that I would do at least some household chores during the times I dressed up. We found a website (http://www.tipsuniforms.com/) and picked out a practical, if a bit stereotypical, black and white housekeeping dress and apron.
I don't remember exactly how we decided on the name to put in the ship-to address. I had always thought of myself, when I was feeling feminine, sort of in the image of one of my aunts. Her name was Jackie. So, first name, Jackie. Last name? I am honestly not sure how it came about. I remember telling Barbara that "Jackie Sissy" sounded too obvious and between us we somehow decided on the name to fill in.
And so it was about a week later a package arrived at our door. It was addressed to "Jackie Goodsissy".
One, I want this blog to be more about becoming and being a sissy and not about getting over addiction to pornography. Another is that I am not interested in getting too "hard core" in my posts and going into detail would necessarily become more sexually explicit than I am comfortable with. And lastly, it is just embarrassing. I am embarrassed about the things I used to do and the failings and weaknesses involved, so I don't want to lay it all out here. True, because of the role it played in my becoming a sissy, it must be addressed to a certain extent, but the details are for other times and places.
Miss Barbara began a subtle and suggestion-based encouragement of my steps toward feminization. Like when she suggested that the best time to wear a bra was on weekends. It turned out she was right and it soon came to feel natural. When I said I was afraid a bra would show thorough my shirt, she suggested I wear a camisole over it. Soon I was wearing bras and camisoles most weekends, holidays, vacations.
One day we were in K-Mart of all places, walking by women's sleepwear when she said, "Do you think you might like to sleep in a nightie?" I was a surprised by the question but immediately knew that yes, I would probably love sleeping in a nightie! I ended up picking one out (baby blue nylon, sleeveless, knee-length), trying it out that night and have worn nighties to bed ever since. I have quite a few of them now, at least seven that I can think of, probably more.
And then of course, that first maid dress. There was a Fredrick's of Hollywood at the mall and as we were walking by it one day, this maid costume in the window caught my eye. Not a real maid dress but the cheap, sexy costume kind. I had barely seen it, not even had time to really think anything about it, and Barbara said, "Maybe something like that would be good for you, you know, for fun." I sort of laughed it off and said something about how that little thing would never fit me. She laughed too, but said something along the lines of, "No, not that one, but something like that. If you want to dress up it might as well be as something useful."
Over the next couple of weeks we decided that I could dress up as a maid at home, at times when Barbara was not there. And it was understood that I would do at least some household chores during the times I dressed up. We found a website (http://www.tipsuniforms.com/) and picked out a practical, if a bit stereotypical, black and white housekeeping dress and apron.
I don't remember exactly how we decided on the name to put in the ship-to address. I had always thought of myself, when I was feeling feminine, sort of in the image of one of my aunts. Her name was Jackie. So, first name, Jackie. Last name? I am honestly not sure how it came about. I remember telling Barbara that "Jackie Sissy" sounded too obvious and between us we somehow decided on the name to fill in.
And so it was about a week later a package arrived at our door. It was addressed to "Jackie Goodsissy".
Friday, July 22, 2011
Barbara Uncovers More of Jackie's Secrets and Tells Her Mother
I had a lot of fun in the time after I made my confession to Barbara. I loved shopping for panties, I had a large collection, I was in panties all the time, and Barbara knew all about it, which was wonderful. However, I still had my secrets. What she didn't know about was my growing pornography and masturbation addiction, and the feeling that I wanted more than to just wear panties.
During this time, Barbara was happy for me to indulge my "panties habit" but she never participated in any fundamental way (except for maybe the "no thong" rule). The only time she exercised some influence was when I found that she had gotten rid of my "boy underwear" and I had nothing to wear but panties. But things changed and she became involved soon after I showed her my first bra.
I had wanted a bra for a while and one day we were at the mall, but shopping separately, and I bought one from J.C. Pennys. It was pretty, white, size 38b and had lacy, padded cups with no underwire. Barbara was driving us home and I showed her what I had bought. I showed her my new panties first and lastly I said, "Oh, and I got this," and pulled the bra from the shopping bag. She did not say much but I remember her asking where I planned on wearing it and I said, "I don't really know for sure."
But Barbara's active directing of my feminization didn't start because I got a bra, it just happened to be about that same time when she became aware of my pornography addiction. Her first clue came when she found a shoebox with a few video tapes (remember those?) hidden inside. All the tapes focused on my obsession with female-on-male oral sex and especially the messy climax of that act.
She questioned me about the tapes until I confessed some very embarrassing things. I told her how I watched the videos basically whenever I had time alone. I admitted that, when I couldn't watch the tapes, I would masturbate while thinking about them. And when she asked how often I was doing it, I confessed that it was about three times a week (which was in truth the minimum, sometimes it would be five or even more times a week). At the risk of understatement, she was not happy.
This time there was crying, yelling and accusations. She pointed out how seldom we had sex and now she knew why. I was expending all of my sexual energy on my fantasies. How did I think that made her feel? She said that this was not how real men satisfied their sexual needs (the first time she had ever implied that I might not be a "real man") but was something more appropriate for a horny teenager. And she said the subject matter of these video tapes was particularly nasty. It was objectifying, humiliating and degrading to the women involved. I was thoroughly chastised and had nothing to say for myself.
What I did was apologize. I cried. I said I was sorry. I begged for her forgiveness and a chance to prove myself. I tore tape from the cassettes while she watched, broke it and threw them away. I promised never to look at such subject matter again. I promised to avoid masturbating and to pay more attention to her. I asked her to let me prove I could act like a man and not some horny teen boy. I promised all of these things to her and I meant everything I said. But within a short time, I had broken every promise. In other words, I acted exactly like an addict.
Somewhat later I was told how this incident upset Barbara so much that she talked it over with her mother, Carolyn. That was when Miss Carolyn first heard about my love of panties. It was also when Barbara first heard that her own father not only wore panties, but was a sissy. Barbara also complained to her mother about her sexual frustration and dissatisfaction. As can be imagined, this conversation was to have a lasting effect on our marriage.
And so all the pieces were in place: A husband-in-panties with a porn and masturbation addiction, a wife that knew about it, and an informed mother-in-law that had experience with a sissy of her own. Next time I will go into how Miss Barbara (and, unknown to me, her mother) began directing my feminization and trying to bring my sexual addictions under control.
Until then, thanks again for reading!
During this time, Barbara was happy for me to indulge my "panties habit" but she never participated in any fundamental way (except for maybe the "no thong" rule). The only time she exercised some influence was when I found that she had gotten rid of my "boy underwear" and I had nothing to wear but panties. But things changed and she became involved soon after I showed her my first bra.
I had wanted a bra for a while and one day we were at the mall, but shopping separately, and I bought one from J.C. Pennys. It was pretty, white, size 38b and had lacy, padded cups with no underwire. Barbara was driving us home and I showed her what I had bought. I showed her my new panties first and lastly I said, "Oh, and I got this," and pulled the bra from the shopping bag. She did not say much but I remember her asking where I planned on wearing it and I said, "I don't really know for sure."
But Barbara's active directing of my feminization didn't start because I got a bra, it just happened to be about that same time when she became aware of my pornography addiction. Her first clue came when she found a shoebox with a few video tapes (remember those?) hidden inside. All the tapes focused on my obsession with female-on-male oral sex and especially the messy climax of that act.
She questioned me about the tapes until I confessed some very embarrassing things. I told her how I watched the videos basically whenever I had time alone. I admitted that, when I couldn't watch the tapes, I would masturbate while thinking about them. And when she asked how often I was doing it, I confessed that it was about three times a week (which was in truth the minimum, sometimes it would be five or even more times a week). At the risk of understatement, she was not happy.
This time there was crying, yelling and accusations. She pointed out how seldom we had sex and now she knew why. I was expending all of my sexual energy on my fantasies. How did I think that made her feel? She said that this was not how real men satisfied their sexual needs (the first time she had ever implied that I might not be a "real man") but was something more appropriate for a horny teenager. And she said the subject matter of these video tapes was particularly nasty. It was objectifying, humiliating and degrading to the women involved. I was thoroughly chastised and had nothing to say for myself.
What I did was apologize. I cried. I said I was sorry. I begged for her forgiveness and a chance to prove myself. I tore tape from the cassettes while she watched, broke it and threw them away. I promised never to look at such subject matter again. I promised to avoid masturbating and to pay more attention to her. I asked her to let me prove I could act like a man and not some horny teen boy. I promised all of these things to her and I meant everything I said. But within a short time, I had broken every promise. In other words, I acted exactly like an addict.
Somewhat later I was told how this incident upset Barbara so much that she talked it over with her mother, Carolyn. That was when Miss Carolyn first heard about my love of panties. It was also when Barbara first heard that her own father not only wore panties, but was a sissy. Barbara also complained to her mother about her sexual frustration and dissatisfaction. As can be imagined, this conversation was to have a lasting effect on our marriage.
And so all the pieces were in place: A husband-in-panties with a porn and masturbation addiction, a wife that knew about it, and an informed mother-in-law that had experience with a sissy of her own. Next time I will go into how Miss Barbara (and, unknown to me, her mother) began directing my feminization and trying to bring my sexual addictions under control.
Until then, thanks again for reading!
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