Deep down I always knew that I would one day have a profound impact on the crossdressing community. Reading the below article from my submissive this morning, touched me in ways that I never thought possible.
I wanted to thank you for being such an invaluable part of My life and My learning process and for allowing Me to spread My wings and challenge Myself in order to become a better Domina.
May we never forget to live our truth.
Something stood out for me in the article, however, and I wanted to use this as a teachable moment. I am all about learning, opening my mind, and challenging notions, so when my submissive wrote "It didn’t make me less of a man; I was still very much attracted to women," I thought I'd take this time to remind everyone that your sexual orientation doesn't make you any more or any less of a man. There are heterosexual men out there who in my eyes will never be real men because of their actions and the same can be said of certain homosexual men, too.
Always remember that "HETEROSEXUALITY DOES NOT A MAN MAKE."
And with that, I hope you enjoy this story - my submissive's very personal account of his life as a cross-dresser.
Mistress Sara xo
"I’ve always envied women; I’ve always admired them as well. The
clothes they get to wear; the way they accessorize their outfits. Perhaps it’s
my admiration for women that made me submissive so many years ago.
Today, I live to serve Mistress Sara. I learned early on that her approach to
dominance is subtle but firm. She doesn’t raise her voice and make
demands or give orders; she suggests and recommends with a confident
certainty that her words will be heeded; clear directions absent any
ambiguity. Recommendations from Mistress Sara are an opportunity to
excel and are not to be ignored. And that brings me to our current
Mistress Sara “recommended” that I write about feminization;
specifically, my perspective and experience on the subject since my
Mistress has started to feminize me. I will say a subtle foundation was set
decades ago when, at the insistence of my then girlfriend, I started wearing
panties. Panties progressed to pantyhose. Wearing pantyhose led to me
shaving my legs every other day. And, if you’ve ever put pantyhose on your
freshly shaven legs you have to acknowledge it is a very sensual
experience. Does that make a man effeminate or a candidate for full
feminization? Not necessarily, but it certainly plants the seeds.
Imagine if you will, a stereotypical biker: over six feet in height, a fit
individual with shoulder length hair and a full beard, dressed in leathers on
the back of a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Would you suspect he was
wearing pink panties and pantyhose layered beneath his jeans? Probably
not. But, it’s that contradiction, that stark contrast that convinced my
previous life-partner to push my limits by convincing me to cross-dress from
the waist down. We shared a Dominant / submissive lifestyle. She was the
former, I the latter. Not in the bondage and discipline sense, mind you, in
fact she rarely tied me up. We were both hedonists and due to my
submissive nature, I would do anything to please her. Yes, I wore high
heels, stockings, and a garter belt but it always led to a happy ending for
both of us; I couldn’t complain; and she loved it. It really was about making
Unfortunately, as so many good things do, the relationship ended. She
moved on, leaving behind a man dependent upon dominant women for
some sense of structure. After months of wandering aimlessly, I met
Mistress Sara and she accepted me as her submissive. As our relationship
evolved, she recognized I had certain tendencies: my love for feminine
apparel, the collection of high heels and lingerie I had amassed, my desire
to cross-dress from the waist down even when sex wasn’t involved. Clear
indicators I was a candidate for full feminization. It wasn’t just a fetishist’s
love for something silky brushing against his genitals. And thus she
decided to feminize me completely. Feminization is not something that
happens over night; at least not for me. When she first mentioned it I was
excited by the thought. I’ve been wearing panties and hose under my
normal clothes for ages but I never once thought of going all the way.
Mistress Sara has a very compassionate approach to domination. Her
skill is in reading the individual and intuitively understanding their needs
and then shaping their needs to fit her desires. It inspires obedience to
such a depth, I dread the feeling of disappointing my Mistress. When she
first mentioned feminizing me, while I was excited, there was some
apprehension. But, She made it clear we would do it together, in stages,
and if ever I was uncomfortable, we would stop. How could I say no?
First came the high heels. I’ve been wearing high heels in private for
quite some time. My former partner bought me my first pair - black double
dorsay pumps with six inch heels. How many people actually know what a
double dorsay is? I spent hours learning to walk in those heels; she spent
hours laughing at me trying to walk in those heels. As I learned to walk, my
love for heels grew and so did my collection of shoes. Mistress Sara
designed a pair of heels for me. The first open-toe shoes I’ve ever had. Of
course no proper lady wears open-toe shoes without polishing her toenails.
The first step in my feminization was to buy some burgundy red nail polish
and paint my toes.
Painting toe nails wasn’t new to me. I painted my former lover’s toes on
numerous occasions. Why painting my own was such a challenge, I’ll never
know. In one evening I painted them four times. Each time I managed to
get more polish around my toe nails than actually on them. I was a dismal
failure at painting my toes. I’m still practicing.
Although I’ve been cross-dressing from the waist down for years, I’ve
rarely had the occasion to wear a bra. My previous partner had me wear a
sports bra now and again but Mistress Sara made it clear she doesn’t care
for those. So we went shopping on line to find a bra suitable for the “new”
me. There were complications since I’m flat chested and finding a bra to fit
my chest would definitely require a cup size larger than I could fill. That led
to our discussion of breasts and hair.
Hair was an issue. No, not the hair on my head, the hair everywhere
else. Mistress Sara suggested I visit a waxing salon to remove unwanted
hair below the panty line and shave or wax the rest myself. Researching
the local area the only waxing studios I found didn’t cater to men. Not to be
dissuaded, Mistress found a waxing kit on Amazon; I ordered it
immediately. At the same time, I continued to search the local area. As luck
would have it, I found a waxing salon that catered to both sexes and would
do a full Brazilian. A full Brazilian removes ALL of the hair around the
genitals and the butt and butt crack. I made an appointment. As I stared at
the waxing kit Amazon delivered it only made sense to add the chest,
stomach, and back to the waxing appointment. I would rather have
someone else pulling each strip of wax then attempt it myself.
The salon was unremarkable. It looked like any other store front in a
strip mall. I checked in at the desk and was told to sit in the waiting area
which faced the sidewalk outside. At that point, I started to consider the
possibility of encountering someone I know walking by and what I would
offer as a reason for being there. Fortunately, the young lady performing
the waxing introduced herself and moved me to a private room before an
excuse was needed. Once in the room, I was instructed to disrobe and lay
on the table. The technician was very professional; she explained what she
was going to do and in what sequence. As she put it, she wanted to do the
harder parts first, so she started with the Brazilian. Slathering hot wax on
my pubic area, she used her hand to press the wax against my skin to
collect as much hair as possible and to get close to the root. Giving it
seconds to harden, she instructed me to take a deep breath and exhale
forcefully. She pulled the wax and attached hair free as I exhaled. I’m not
sure if timing the wax and hair removal in such a fashion was meant to
mitigate pain or keep a person from screaming as their skin was being
ripped from their body. It was very painful - perhaps not as bad as depicted
in the “Forty Year Old Virgin” but, in my view, not far from it.
The technician really was wonderful. During the Brazilian, while she was
manipulating my penis (Yes, she waxed that as well) I developed an
erection. Being self-conscious about it, I apologized to her. She said “it’s
not unusual” and “don’t worry, it’s no big deal.” Of course the erection only
lasted until she pulled the next strip of wax but as I stopped screaming I
couldn’t help wonder if the “no big deal” was in reference to my size or that
it is a common occurrence when she waxes men. She left me totally
hairless from my collarbone to my toes. I have to say being hairless feels
amazing. Mistress Sara now has me moisturizing and exfoliating regularly;
my skin feels as soft as any woman’s. Running my hands down my chest,
across my abdomen to my pubic bone never felt so stimulating - I feel
While shopping to find a bra for me, Mistress noted that because of my
body size and structure I would need a “D” cup. Except, wearing a “D” cup
would require padding or breasts. Padding would fill out the bra and might
even look nice but, beyond the visual would it contribute or enhance the
“female experience”? Mistress Sara recommended we explore web sites
that sold breast forms; silicon prosthetics that are attached to the pectoral
muscles with the look and feel of real breasts. Surprisingly, there are a
number of sites that provide breast forms in different shapes, sizes and
colors. After carefully researching various products we settled on the
“Amolux Diamond” sold at thebreastformstore.com.
They arrived in less than a week. My hands were shaking as I opened
the box and gently removed one of the breasts. They felt so amazingly real
- it was hard not to put them on immediately but, given the magnitude of the
event, I couldn’t do it without my Mistress.
These breast forms are designed to adhere to the chest without
additional adhesive. They also can be worn bra-less which, as it turned out,
is how we tried them first. Attaching the breast is a matter of cradling and
positioning it prior to pressing it against the skin. It sticks… and strong
enough to bounce on one’s toes without it becoming dislodged. In a matter
of moments I went from being flat-chested to having a voluptuous D-cup
bosom. Dressed in pink panties, black hose and heels, and my breasts
attached, I don’t think I ever felt more feminine or that excited.
Mistress Sara made it clear as she gave me permission to remove my
chastity device, whenever I have my breasts in place I no longer have a
penis or pee-pee, it is now a clit or clitty. By then it was getting quite hard.
The level of excitement continued to grow; it was as though I was losing my
virginity again only this time as a woman. My Mistress used an eight inch
dildo on me; giving me the gift of an orgasm so intense it left me crying
tears of joy. This journey we began when my Mistress decided to feminize
me isn’t over; I am very much a work in-progress and in truth, I hope the
adventure never ends."