Coming Out- Charlene's Story- A Short Story

 

 

  As every cross dresser is aware, the wearing of female clothing behind closed doors is very much an escapist existence. Once dressed as a woman a TV can enter into feminity in secluded bliss for as long as he/she as time. But "Coming Out" is a different matter entirely. It takes courage, conviction and painstaking detail for a TV to be thoroughly convinced that he could pass as a girl in the outside world. One mistake could lead to embarrassment, confusion and even hostility from an unaware stranger. A friend of mine, Charles, is one of the most convincing cross dressers I have ever seen. When dressed as Charlene, he transforms himself from a good looking black guy into a ravishing, slender woman, with dusky looks and a curvy figure. To look at Charlene's confident sashay, wearing the most revealing and figure hugging of dresses, one would never imagine for one moment the first "outing" by Charlene involved nerves and unbridled anxiety. Charlene tells her own story:- I'd been dressing up since I was nine, mostly in my sister's clothes and then later on my mum's, as I grew taller. By the time I was nineteen I was going out with a guy called Peter, whom I'd met through a contact magazine. I had a collection of underwear, nightdresses and a couple of dresses. I even had my own false boobs. But I had never gone outside as a girl. The girl's clothes were just part of my life with Peter - he used to get really excited to see me wearing lingerie, or a baby doll nightdress. One evening, I was sitting in his flat with him, just having a couple of drinks, and chatting. I was wearing a white lace bodyshaper, underneath a silky chemise wrap that I had bought that afternoon. The bodyshaper was with under wired cups, which pushed up my shapely false breasts. Feeling relaxed from the two glasses of wine I had drunk, and also from being in these clothes, I just giggled when Peter casually mentioned that "it was about time I went outside as a girl". I didn't really take in what he was saying until he got up, and announced that he was going to "phone for a taxi, and that we were going into town". I looked at him the sudden reality of what was going through his mind suddenly sank in. I said (stupidly): "I'll have to get changed first". He laughed, and leaned over to plant a kiss on my mouth. "Don't you think it's time that other people than myself saw how good you look dressed up?" he said. "All you have to do is put on a frock, and do your face over. You can be ready in half-an-hour?" I repeated shrilly, "Don't be stupid, Peter. Look dressing up in here with you is one thing, but outside? What of someone guesses? I could be locked up, beaten up or worse!" But underneath my babbling, I was secretly starting to look forward to the idea of being outside as a girl. Ten years of a secret double-life had just stifled a desire to show myself, and the girl I could be, to the outside world. So when Peter led me by the hand into the bedroom, I went along with the plan. I pretended reluctance, but this was just part of the teasing act I had begun. Secretly I couldn't wait to be on Peter's arm as his girlfriend, rather than his boyfriend. I picked out my best dress. It was a sleeveless white fit'n'flare number, quite short, showing off my dark skin perfectly. The bodyshaper I had on had a thong back, and Peter whistled as I walked up and down the bedroom, looking at myself in the mirror. "You tart!" he laughed. "I can see right through that dress, you know!" I phoned for a taxi. "Could I have a cab please?" I knew from years of practice that a high pitched voice would have sounded stupid, so I settled for a husky imitation of my mum's. I gave the address, and went back into the bedroom, where Peter was rubbing aftershave onto his neck.  


  When the taxi arrived, I was relieved to see through the window the driver was a man. I had always thought that a woman was more likely to rumble a TV than a man would do. Hand in hand, Peter and I walked down the stairs to the waiting car. The driver said little as he drove into town, and had given me no more than a quick glance as I got into the taxi. The dress I had on rode up well above my knees, and Peter rested his hand on my left thigh, occasionally squeezing reassuringly. I had his other hand in mine, and was so glad he was by my side for this nerve- wracking experience. I doubt that I could have seen the evening through alone. When we reached town, Peter steered me along the pavement to a "Straight" pub, one of the most popular in the area.

 

I had secretly hoped that he would have gone to one of the gay bars we usually drink in, as I would have felt much more comfortable there. The cool breeze of the early June night blew the thin fabric of my dress against me, and I was suddenly conscious of starting to get aroused. I was glad to get into the pub, away from the public gaze. Inside the pub, we struggled through the crowds of drinkers towards the bar. I kept my eyes glued to the back of Peter's head, not daring to meet anyone's gaze. When we ordered drinks, I gulped down half my glass of wine immediately. Peter encircled my waist with his arm, and told me not to worry. It was easy for him to say. My heart had by now started to thump under the falsies, and I flitted my gaze from side to side nervously. "I'll have to visit the gents," Peter said, moving away from me. "Oh God, don't leave me alone in here!" I gasped, fearing every possible scenario. "You'll be alright. Just don't talk to any strange men in the meantime!" "Pig!" I thought, and glared at his back as he walked away. I had started to feel calmer, though, and glanced around me in a more leisurely fashion than before. I began to drink for the sheer hell of it - outside, as Charlene! I was dressed as a sexy teenage girl, and was accompanied by a hunky young man! The evening, after Peter returned, went on without major incident. I think that, once I had spent a couple of hours outside as Charlene, the nerves had begun to disappear, and I realised that I fitted in more comfortably as Charlene than Charles. I go out as Charlene several times a week now, and have been away on holiday twice where I spent the entire week dressed as a girl. Even though Peter and I are no longer a couple, I look back with a lot of fondness on our relationship. It was Peter who convinced me to go "public" as Charlene, and that I could be sexy as well as convincing as a girl. Since then, I've hardly looked back! The End  



 

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JANICES SUMMER

 

With summer passing I thought I'd recount what had happened to me this summer. It was a summer of revelation, which was both scary and exhilarating. Firstly let me tell you that I'm 22 and I started with my present employer when I left University last year. I've been dressing when I got the chance for some time, and as I'm only 5'4" and 8 stone I don't think I look too extreme. Now I have a decent job I can afford my own place and am able to spend more time dressed around the house. Anyway I've always tried to be discreet and hoped that nobody would take too much notice. In July we completed a major part of a big contract, despite the timescales being tight (unrealistically so) we worked all hours necessary and got the job done. The project manager was pleased and after the wash up meeting for the stage he said that although there'd be a bonus - we should have a long weekend to make up for some of the extra time. So the team had the Monday & Friday off.   On the Thursday evening I got out the dep cream and soon my body, legs and arms were hairless. Lounging in a satin nightie and then bed followed a long soak in a scented bath. In the morning I lounged about a bit again, painted my nails (fingers and toes) - no hurry and then dressed. I'd chosen a pretty light blue lace bra and pants set with a full and floaty petticoat, lemon coloured (layers of chiffon edged in lace). Over this went a white circular poly-cotton skirt and a white georgette blouse. The outfit was completed with a necklace and a couple of bracelets, a pair of black high heel sandelised shoes and a cardigan. Checking the coast was clear I walked out to the car and drove off for a run. I drove off to a near(ish) beauty spot and was lucky that there was nobody else there. I was glad to stop as the temperature gauge on my old car started to zoom up so it gave the old girl time to cool. Fortunately the area was deserted so I took the chance to get out and have a walk around in the fresh air. It was terrific simply walking, feeling the skirt & petticoats move. I' brought some sandwiches and a flask so I sat on a nearby bench and had a little picnic. However, soon it was time to head back. I got into the car and turned on the engine, almost straight away the temperature went up and there was steam everywhere. I opened the bonnet and water was spraying out of one of the hoses. I was now ready to panic. I wasn't in the RAC/AA and besides well I was in a skirt. Eventually I phoned Lorna. Lorna was friend and also a member of the team so would be off for the day and she had gone on about how she had done a car maintenance course. I briefly explained the problem with the car and asked if she could help.   Fortunately she thought replacing the hose wouldn't be a problem and she'd be straight out. I did suggest that she try not to be too shocked when she saw me, which probably raised her curiosity...


Transgender Life   About twenty minutes later her car arrived. She had brought Sarah. While Lorna was someone I'd call a friend; Sarah was more an acquaintance and had a reputation as the team gossip. Well, both of them, their jaws dropped, they looked at me and then at each other, then they grinned and giggled. Once they'd settled down there were questions, you know - how long had I been doing this, was I gay etc. Then Lorna decided it was time to get the replacement hose and did I want to go with her, not really. The idea of standing in Halfords in my skirt didn't appeal. So off she went leaving me with Sarah. Too pass the time a bit we walked a little way down towards a nearby stream. Sarah stopped for a moment and when I turned Sarah she had taken out of her bag a small camera and took a couple of photos. I wasn't amused and went off in a bit of a huff back to the car. She came after me and we ended up sitting on the bench near the car chatting.   I let her take another picture and then went to stand up. Unfortunately I missed my footing in the heels and promptly fell back over the corner of the bench. As I fell I ended up with the front of my skirt and petticoats up around my waist and my blouse unbuttoned and open. So there I lay, one leg on the bench, one on the ground exposed up to the waist and blouse wide open, displaying my bra and pants set to the world. Sarah laughed and there were a couple of clicks. I struggled to my feet and managed to fasten myself up again. I saw the funny side and soon we were both laughing. Soon Lorna returned with the new hose and a couple of old squash bottles of water. We fitted the hose and filled up the radiator. Lorna said I did realise that there was a price to pay, and that was I had to have a day out with her and Sarah the next day and also on Sunday? Not only was I to join them, I was to be dressed in a skirt or dress. I wasn't too keen but they both laughed and said it would be fun and I'd have some company. Well we drove back to my place and the girls managed to park a couple of houses away, making me walk back to my own house. I was going to run so as not to be exposed to the neighbours for too long, but its not easy in high heels! When we got in I made tea for us and we went to sit in the garden. When I went back in for some biscuits Lorna followed me in and pointed out the state of my skirt and blouse which had now acquired some grubby marks as a consequence of falling over. Somehow she seemed to take charge and had me strip down to my bra and pants and then sent me off to change. So I returned to the garden in a pretty cotton floral summer dress. When they left they reminded me that I was expected around at Lorna's the next day suitably attired.   I felt drained. The day had been full of panic and stress and the next day was going to be the same. I spent not too great a night worrying what lay ahead. In the morning I was up and dressed fairly early. I'd chosen a nice cotton skirt and white blouse. I sat by the back door with a cup of tea trying to relax. Lorna called to check that I hadn't forgot and she said I should try and get around to her place for oneish and have some lunch. So at around half twelve I checked that there wasn't anyone around and made my way out to the car. It didn't take long to get to Lornas' place. Sarah was already there and soon we sat down to some salad and a chat. Somehow it wasn't quite so stressful as I'd imagined. After lunch we had a trip out to the shops, a new experience for me, followed by tea in a cafe. Later it was back to Lornas for a rest. After some sandwiches we went out again this time to the cinema then a curry. It was nearly midnight by the time I eventually got home. On the Sunday the girls called for me just before twelve and we went off to a nice fairly secluded pub for a pub lunch. Despite it being fairly busy nobody seemed to take any notice of me. Presumably we looked just like three girls out for lunch. Anyway that was the main events of the weekend. On the Tuesday it was back to work. There was the usual banter about the weekend, good weekend? Do anything? Did you watch etc. It wasn't until Sarah produced the photos she'd taken over the weekend that my heart sank. There in technicolour me in skirts, me in dresses even a couple showing me in bra and pants (when I fell over and when I got changed at home).   Well what do you say, all I could do was brazen it out, take the jokes etc. Sarah at some stage scanned several of the photos and at lunch time we loaded MS Scenes on my machine, and created a gallery of my pictures to use as a screen saver and as a desktop image. On the Wednesday evening I went out with Lorna, Sarah and Jenny (one of the others) for a meal. Somehow the previous day's revelations were like a weight lifted and it didn't worry me going along in a skirt and top. It was an enjoyable evening. At the end Lorna told me she had a treat for me for Friday and after work she'd pick me up, I should wear something nice but not too constraining - intriguing...


Transgender Life   When Friday came I was ready at five in a cotton print dress with a fluffy chiffon & lace petticoat. We drove down to the local shopping area, not the town centre. It was hardly worth the drive as it was only about half a mile away. Lorna led me into the hairdressers (sorry salon). She introduced me to the hairdresser Sylvia (or should that be stylist), hardly necessary as she lived at the end of my street. She sat me down and tried to put the cover around me and decided that the neckline of my dress was in the way so could I nip behind the screen and remove my dress. I was given a nylon robe, which came down to mid thigh. So there I say in the chair with petticoats on display while Sylvia started messing with my hair. She wetted it, cut it and covered it with various lotions and potions while her trainee gave me a manicure and pedicure. It wa,s I must admit, great to be so pampered. I asked what she was doing with my hair and she said that Lorna had asked her to style it a little, lighten the colour a little and put in a few highlights. While I was resting, recovering from this she told me to look to the left and when I did so - ouch, my ear!. Then she pierced the left one. By the time I was ready to leave I'd had a manicure, pedicure ears pierced and eyebrows shaped and dyed. I put on my dress again and was at long last allowed to see what she'd done. My brown hair was now a lot lighter with blonde streaks and shaped in a sort of bob style coming in in a big curl at the bottom with a prominent fringe. The bobbed hair hung away from my ears, which allowed the black studs to be easily visible. My eyebrows were a lot darker and thinner, arched like a girl and my fingers and toes now had vibrant red polish. Lorna was pleased with the results and, if I have to admit it, I wasn't too upset either. She had me make another appointment for a couple of weeks. We went out for a meal and I felt really confident.   The hair was a bit embarrassing on Monday but they'd already seen the photos and my screensaver (and Sarah's) so this wasn't as awful as it could have been. At the start of the following week Lorna told me that Sylvia had had to cancel the Friday booking and moved it to Thursday evening. So on the Thursday I made my way to the salon to have my hair done again. By the time I left qmy hair was almost blonde and had curls around the bottom helping it have extra body. I had another manicure and pedicure plus my legs waxed (ouch!). Lorna called for me first thing on Friday. Being an early riser I was sitting in a skirt and blouse wondering what to do with my hair for work. I enjoyed getting up early, particularly in the summer, when I could sit in a dress or skirt for a while before getting changed and going to work. It was Lorna who organised me. Previously I'd bought a three-piece suit from a catalogue, jacket skirt and trousers; she brought out the jacket and trousers. So I ended up sitting in my ladies trousers (back zip) with a white teashirt on over a white lace bra and pants set (no falsies though), stockings and suspenders. She brushed my hair for me, attacked it with spray and finished off with a black hair band. I put on my jacket, a pair of flattish shoes and a pair of earrings and we were off. When we got to the office she gave me a quick spray of perfume and escorted me in.   Well that's it. I haven't actually gone to work in a skirt or dress but it's not far off it. As some of the others say I might as well be wearing a dress. It was a bit touchy at times, but things seem to be settling down. Relationships may have changed, but we still seem to be working as a team. 

 

Janice



 

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My wife Susie and I have been living in Spain for over 20 years, the last 6 in Ibiza. I’ve always been slim and interested in cross-dressing with Susie’s complete approval and encouragement, but it came as a surprise when one day while trimming my hair, she suggested perming, highlighting and styling it in a more feminine way.

 

She was so pleased with the result that she carried on by making me up, and then insisted that to see the results properly I should dress as a girl. She helped me into a bra, panty girdle, tights and high heels, plus a blouse and skirt to complete the transformation. She was thrilled with my appearance and confessed she’d really enjoyed dressing me up.

 

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Since that day, most of the time I’ve dressed as a woman and besides buying my underwear, dresses, blouses and skirts, Susie also obtained a pair of silicone breasts. Then, after about six months of wearing them she suggested I try growing my own.

 

I was rather dubious about the idea as I not only doubted whether it was possible, but didn’t want to end up as a sort of freak. However, I finally agreed and Susie obtained a supply of feminine hormone tablets from the chemist, easily obtainable here in Spain.

 

That was over 5 years ago and with the tablets plus regular massage, I now have – much to Susie’s delight – fully developed 38C breasts. Apart from slight sickness, dizziness and tiredness early on, I suffered no ill effects and I found the pills feminised me in many other ways. All my body hair, apart from pubic which grew very bushy, vanished. My skin became much softer and my body shape changed considerably – I now have a 28″ waist and 38″ hips.

 

What I didn’t know at the time was that Susie had consulted her doctor / gynaecologist to make sure all would be okay. She told Susie that in most cases the treatment worked, and that once changes started taking place she’d be happy to get involved.

 

Once my breasts started developing she was extremely helpful and enthusiastic, examining me regularly, advising Susie on diet and massage and keeping a photographic record for herself of my development. Actually, Susie and her doctor were surprised at the final size of my breasts, as apparently hormone-induced breasts don’t usually grow so large.

 

Susie also enlisted the help of the local lingerie shop, who couldn’t have been more helpful in fitting me into bras, girdles and corselettes, which went a long way towards giving me a good figure.

 

It’s interesting that the average Spaniard has a very relaxed attitude towards transvestism and sex changes, very different to the British. Everyone who knew what was happening from friends to shop assistants were, and are, always helpful, curious and offering advise. For instance, the owner’s wife of our local supermarket always wanted to see my developing breasts, and with cries of delight, would call over the other girls to have a look.

 

Developed

 

Soon after my breasts and figure had fully developed, the doctor and Susie suggested that I have the operation to remove my penis and what remained of my masculinity.

 

A few weeks later it was carried out and proved a complete success, the skin from my penis being used to create an artificial but perfect vagina. Since then I’ve had a couple of minor operations to tidy things up, create a fleshy vulva and generally give the external appearance of a normal female.

 

Something which came as a surprise was the change in my mental attitude. I found myself becoming very proud of my breasts and figure, enjoying showing them off in public in revealing clothes and pretty lingerie. I’ve also become much more interested in my appearance and now happily spend hours trying on clothes in shops without the least embarrassment at being semi-naked in front of other women. All these things, Susie assures me, are quite normal.

 

The other surprise was the sheer weight of my breasts, something which hadn’t occurred to me before. The doctor tells me that they weigh approximately 500 grams each and I can now appreciate the benefits of a well fitting bra!

 

Relationship

 

The relationship between Susie and I has improved considerably since my sex change. Neither of us was very active sexually before, and Susie had told me she’d actually had a couple of lesbian affairs before we married. Now we enjoy a lesbian relationship to our mutual satisfaction.

 

Finally, I certainly never imagined I would feel so relaxed and confident as a woman, and find it extremely hard to describe the feeling of contentment and pleasure in wearing well-fitting and attractive clothes, and generally enjoying my changed status.



 

MARGARET'S STORY

 

  Hi, my name is Margaret and I'd like to tell you about my first 'real' cross-dressing experience. I had played the part of the daughter of Rosie O'Grady in a school play - it was an all boys school and since I was always one of the shortest boys, I'd get picked to play the girl. That first time I was 7 years old and I absolutely loved all the attention and the way I felt and looked. Of course I couldn't let on.   When I was about 12 years old, our next door neighbor asked my mother if I would be willing to help her alter some of her clothes, as she did a great deal of sewing and alterations etc. She had just provided me with a dress for another school play and knew that I was her size. My mother agreed that I would help, without even consulting me. This lady was always very good to us and mother felt that it was the least we could do. The next afternoon, after school, I went next door and Polly, our neighbor, thanked me for coming in to help her. I wasn't aware of exactly she wanted to do until I got there. She had a few dresses hanging on a hook on the back of the door, and told me that she needed to hem them and take them in a bit. She wanted me to put them on so that she could use me as a manniquin.

 

Initially she asked me to remove my shirt and pants, which I did. She put the dress on me and decided that she had to put a stuffed bra on me so that the dress fell properly. She and I were the exact same size. She began hemming the dress and I was absolutely loving the feeling I had wearing this dress.   The next day I suggested that she would get a better idea of how her dresses would look if I was wearing heels. She smiled. I think she knew that I was enjoying this little sojourn into pretending to be a girl. She said, "That's a very good idea. In fact, in order to fit the heels on properly you'll need stockings and garters". I had no objection to that! Finally she said, "Why don't I put a slip on you, then the dress will fall just right". She got me all dressed and proceeded to do her alterations. When she was done she was going to give me some hot cocoa and cookies. She said, "Go inside and change and I'll have the cocoa ready for you". Instead of changing, I posed in front of her full length mirror, loving the way I looked. I went out to the kitchen and she wondered why I hadn't changed. I told her that I liked the dress and the way it looked on me and didn't want to change yet. She was wonderful! From that day on, whenever I went to help her, she would get me all dressed in female attire and eventually put some make-up on me and even a wig.   She never told my parents and continued to have me come to her apartment regularly dress me up, even when she didn't have any alterations to do. In fact, she had altered a few outfits just for me! That was one of the greatest experiences I ever had with cross-dressing... Margaret