Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Tuesday, 24 January 2012

My addiction and my Ex pt1

I've been pootling with this post for a while.  I guess I just need to dive straight in.

When I moved to where I live I had just got a job and I kept in contact with the University crowd that I already knew.  I visited often and we'd play RPGs and stuff.  One of the people I met was a student, we'll call her Toby to make things make sense, and she was very attractive and pretty strange, she'd change her sexuality once a week and so forth.  Still, I rather liked her but considered her out of my league.  She got engaged and in the summer of 2004 undertook a Pagan ceremony to tie her to this bloke for some number of years (it was all a bit fuzzy).  I was disappointed.  I've said before how she invited me over to try on her dress and how much I liked it.

The night dress was very similar to this one, it tied in the
back, which I needed because I lacked breasts, and was
a tad darker, but you get the idea.  I actually loved it.
Anyway, for some odd reason we ended up together on New Year's Eve/morning of 2005.  I stopped over in a sleeping bag in her room and we got on.  She'd split with her fella, should have tipped me off how quickly she 'got over' that, and we hooked up.  Before long she visited my flat and I spoke in depth about enjoying dressing in her dress.  We agreed that I would dress as a schoolgirl for her birthday, whenever that is, and that we would go to a club that was relaxed about that kind of fetish, being 'Gothy' and a bit weird.  In the meantime I stopped over in her room a few times and we ended up sharing a bed.  She dressed me in an old nightgown that was slightly too small for her, fit me fine if a bit big, and that she considered "too restrictive".  She'd take delight in playing the male, hence the name Toby, and in teasing me physically - which was difficult, I'd never had anyone else do what she did, it had always been a personal thing.  And I confess that the two things, cross-dressing and what she did, became somewhat interlinked.  It's conditioning, something my reading of various web sites has told me all about when it comes to these aspects of life.  It therefore followed that I wanted to do more of it, adding to existing 'kinks' I had about restriction and handcuffs.  Furthermore, she would cuddle up to my back, arms around me, which was nice - I felt protected and vulnerable.  This happened without the clothing too, and I took it to mean that I would be the one being 'wooed' and appreciated.  Essentially, in these early stages, I was very much the 'woman' in the relationship.  She called me 'Bex' on texts and in person and sometimes referred to herself as 'Toby', after a dream she had where both names were used in that way.

My eyes actually looked a bit like this.  Okay, mine are brown
and my eyebrows are nowhere near that well-kept but,
well, you get the idea.  In retrospect, I think I enjoyed
this more than the cross-dressing.  I loved washing my
face in the morning and having to deal with mascara.
And so it was.  However, when Toby visited my flat and I showed her a dress I had bought she seemed less interested.  On her birthday I had worn a stuffed bra, it made the blouse hang better, but she had asked I remove it that night to sleep and had been a little sniffy about my wearing any feminine clothing to sleep.  She made it clear that she wasn't interested in me 'passing'.  We did continue to explore this whole avenue through make-up however, she made up my face in a number of ways: some feminine and some not.  She applied eye-liner and mascara, which I confess I liked very much, and also drew all over my face with lines at various points.  I was also treated to various shades of eye shadow, again, I liked this.  I was always uncertain though, I wanted to do all of this but I didn't really want to ask, it was as if I wanted to be forced.

I'd bought her the handcuffs for her birthday from London.
I had wrapped them with a bow and written a card from
Bex in my best 'girly' handwriting.  I recall her being,
well, a little under-whelmed.
One weekend she had me change, willingly, into a rainbow coloured cardigan and pink combats and I wore those for the evening of the Friday.  On Saturday she agreed to put me in handcuffs with the ensemble and when I went to the toilet offered to help.  I wish I had taken her up on that but I didn't.  So she tried to 'lose' the key and kept me locked out of her room.  I know now that she was trying to deliver on the humiliation aspect of cross-dressing that my desire to be forced was a part of.  But I was a complete nob-end and didn't really spot that one, preferring instead to try and keep it all private.  Afterwards she gave me a massage, I was still handcuffed, and then we ordered pizza.  I did not ask to be taken out of handcuffs but by the time the pizza arrived I was back in male clothes.  I don't think I appreciated at the time just how much I enjoyed the experience and how much I wanted it to continue.  I should have asked, but I was aware that Toby was not as turned on by this whole experience as I was.  The first seeds were sown that this relationship would not develop how either of us wanted it.  The upshot was that Toby did say she thought I was more of a transvestite than not, in the whole weekend I only really wore male clothing for the pizza, that night and the time it took me to drive home, she had a point.

These are what I was wearing.  Lower
quality, but these.
At some point in amongst all this she tried to ask about my "pretty panties" and made to check them.  To this day I regret that I was wearing boxers at the time.  Toby was trying to get close to me and my addiction and I was pushing her away.  Passively, granted, but it was me doing the pushing and the freezing out, not her.  I hadn't realised how much until I started writing this post, actually, but there it is.  Looking at what I've written so far I regret not taking her up on the offer of 'help' when going to the toilet, that could have been interesting to say the least and would have been a way of letting her in to the whole thing I had going on.  I have no reason to believe she was being anything other than genuine on that score.  Secondly, that I didn't embrace the whole make up thing, I could have bought some and we could have made each other up.  Why not?  I was on a low wage, granted, but I only had myself to spend it on!

There will have to be a Part 2, but this will do for now.

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!