Patricia Melton
12-26-2005, 01:53 PM
For a little background, I am the unashamed product of a one-night-stand between a lovely young woman and a horny stud whose name she can’t remember. Though only nineteen at the time, my mother eagerly accepted the responsibility of raising me on her own by waiting tables and working strip clubs until finally settling on a comfortable career in cosmetology. Being reared in a lipstick and lace environment had a definite influence on my “girlish” personality, while inheriting many of my mother’s more feminine features - elfish looks, slender frame and slight stature - made it easy for people to mistake my true gender. Even at school, I was often teased, though never harmed, for looking and acting like a little girl. But the odd attention made me feel cute and never really bothered me much until mom married a man with two older boys who seemed to take delight in subjugating her and shaming me.
A far as “life-style” was concerned, the uncomfortable situation was a definite up-grade. We settled into a new house, always had plenty of food on the table, and I had more than enough space to myself. Sometime during the move, however, a small box of mom’s old lingerie had accidentally wound up in my bedroom closet and, upon discovering the steamy undergarments, I began experimenting late at night while everyone was fast asleep. Under the pale glow of my night-light, I would pose carelessly in the mirror and lustfully admire the unmistakable female form reflecting back at me. It felt so wonderfully naughty inside the assorted bras, panties, garter belts, hose, slips and what-not, that I couldn’t help relieving myself several times during a given fashion show. Hopelessly hooked and loving every minute of it, I became more and more careless and eventually got caught by my step-dad. My little heaven quickly turned into a living hell!
After man-handling me into the master bedroom to show mom what her little sissy was up too, step-dad lashed out at me with an extremely severe scolding, then invited his two boys in for even more embarrassment. With face flushed red and teary eyes glued to the floor, I bent forward slightly as instructed to receive more punishment. My bare yet neatly framed cheeks quivered nervously in anticipation of the first stinging swat that, once delivered, caused my entire body to flinch wildly. Generously exposed and feeling quite vulnerable, I wiggled, whimpered and moaned with each hard spank while enduring a constant barrage of demeaning insults - such as sissy, pussy and fag - until my little tush was completely tenderized. Through it all, I managed to catch a short glimpse of mom who just sat on the bed pouting. Afterwards, I was sent to my room, certain that I would never want to dress again. Nothing more was ever said about the incident, but the box of “goodies” was removed from my closet. At age fourteen, I had never been more humiliated in my life!
My high school years were rather uneventful, so I attended a junior college, got my associates degree and a decent job before moving out on my own. Once on my own, I started dressing in secret again, but this time with makeup, breast-forms and the works. I’ve since fallen in love with pantyhose (control tops keep me pressed but allow a fair amount of freedom), little black dresses ( I just adore the titillating excitement brought on by being scarcely concealed), hi-heeled spikes and bling-bling. My wardrobe still includes bras, panties, garter belts, hose and slips, but I also enjoy sexy little nighties and an occasional corset. After work, I can hardly wait to get home, put on a little makeup, slip into something sexy and shamelessly priss about while attending my house work, which usually culminates in a series of pleasing pulses that forces a change of clothes. I love being a naughty little girl and would love to be seen in public as such. Yet even though I know I will easily pass, I still lack the courage to step-out and be who I want to be. At least until just recently!
Discovering crossdressers.com brought back the initial sensations I so enjoyed when I first started dressing. Knowing that I am not alone - and that there are more “girls” in the same heels than I could possibly imagine - has also caused my confidence to soar. Those of you who have read my introduction know that my mother - who just recently divorced - came to stay with me shortly before Christmas. I wanted to greet her at the door, en-femme, but was cautioned against it by many of you sweet ladies. As a result, I wisely opted to wait patiently for the opportune time, which came much earlier than I expected. While discussing the divorce and how relieved she is to be away from “that man”, the subject of my little nightmare came up. During the conversation, mom innocently inquired if I ever wore girls clothes again ( amazing what a little wine will do). Once I told her, she sweetly confessed that she had always wanted a daughter, that she knew exactly how I felt wearing her things, and that she felt really bad for not taking up for me that night. All I could say is how much I love her, that I’m so glad she is finally free, and that no harm was done. She then quietly asked if I’d like to slip into something more comfortable, but I quickly declined, citing that I’m not quite ready just yet.
That was Christmas Eve. Tonight, we’re planning on having a “girl’s-night-in” with me first cooking dinner, then supplementing the evening activities with a fashion show. As originally planned, I’ll greet her at the door with my hair done nicely and makeup well attended, wearing my favorite little black dress with pantyhose and heels. She’s been out running errands and shopping since early this morning to give me more than enough time to prepare. I’m just so nervous and excited right now, girls, that I can hardly stand it. I’m going to send some pictures (if I’m brave enough to go through with this) but hope mom is willing to help me a little with my makeup before she takes them. I feel so sexy, free and wonderful right now. Thanks to all of you little darlings for making this possible. I love you all so much!
Patricia Melton - who just folded her arms above her head, stretched tenderly and shamelessly ruined yet another pair of pantyhose! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, how she loves being a girl!
A far as “life-style” was concerned, the uncomfortable situation was a definite up-grade. We settled into a new house, always had plenty of food on the table, and I had more than enough space to myself. Sometime during the move, however, a small box of mom’s old lingerie had accidentally wound up in my bedroom closet and, upon discovering the steamy undergarments, I began experimenting late at night while everyone was fast asleep. Under the pale glow of my night-light, I would pose carelessly in the mirror and lustfully admire the unmistakable female form reflecting back at me. It felt so wonderfully naughty inside the assorted bras, panties, garter belts, hose, slips and what-not, that I couldn’t help relieving myself several times during a given fashion show. Hopelessly hooked and loving every minute of it, I became more and more careless and eventually got caught by my step-dad. My little heaven quickly turned into a living hell!
After man-handling me into the master bedroom to show mom what her little sissy was up too, step-dad lashed out at me with an extremely severe scolding, then invited his two boys in for even more embarrassment. With face flushed red and teary eyes glued to the floor, I bent forward slightly as instructed to receive more punishment. My bare yet neatly framed cheeks quivered nervously in anticipation of the first stinging swat that, once delivered, caused my entire body to flinch wildly. Generously exposed and feeling quite vulnerable, I wiggled, whimpered and moaned with each hard spank while enduring a constant barrage of demeaning insults - such as sissy, pussy and fag - until my little tush was completely tenderized. Through it all, I managed to catch a short glimpse of mom who just sat on the bed pouting. Afterwards, I was sent to my room, certain that I would never want to dress again. Nothing more was ever said about the incident, but the box of “goodies” was removed from my closet. At age fourteen, I had never been more humiliated in my life!
My high school years were rather uneventful, so I attended a junior college, got my associates degree and a decent job before moving out on my own. Once on my own, I started dressing in secret again, but this time with makeup, breast-forms and the works. I’ve since fallen in love with pantyhose (control tops keep me pressed but allow a fair amount of freedom), little black dresses ( I just adore the titillating excitement brought on by being scarcely concealed), hi-heeled spikes and bling-bling. My wardrobe still includes bras, panties, garter belts, hose and slips, but I also enjoy sexy little nighties and an occasional corset. After work, I can hardly wait to get home, put on a little makeup, slip into something sexy and shamelessly priss about while attending my house work, which usually culminates in a series of pleasing pulses that forces a change of clothes. I love being a naughty little girl and would love to be seen in public as such. Yet even though I know I will easily pass, I still lack the courage to step-out and be who I want to be. At least until just recently!
Discovering crossdressers.com brought back the initial sensations I so enjoyed when I first started dressing. Knowing that I am not alone - and that there are more “girls” in the same heels than I could possibly imagine - has also caused my confidence to soar. Those of you who have read my introduction know that my mother - who just recently divorced - came to stay with me shortly before Christmas. I wanted to greet her at the door, en-femme, but was cautioned against it by many of you sweet ladies. As a result, I wisely opted to wait patiently for the opportune time, which came much earlier than I expected. While discussing the divorce and how relieved she is to be away from “that man”, the subject of my little nightmare came up. During the conversation, mom innocently inquired if I ever wore girls clothes again ( amazing what a little wine will do). Once I told her, she sweetly confessed that she had always wanted a daughter, that she knew exactly how I felt wearing her things, and that she felt really bad for not taking up for me that night. All I could say is how much I love her, that I’m so glad she is finally free, and that no harm was done. She then quietly asked if I’d like to slip into something more comfortable, but I quickly declined, citing that I’m not quite ready just yet.
That was Christmas Eve. Tonight, we’re planning on having a “girl’s-night-in” with me first cooking dinner, then supplementing the evening activities with a fashion show. As originally planned, I’ll greet her at the door with my hair done nicely and makeup well attended, wearing my favorite little black dress with pantyhose and heels. She’s been out running errands and shopping since early this morning to give me more than enough time to prepare. I’m just so nervous and excited right now, girls, that I can hardly stand it. I’m going to send some pictures (if I’m brave enough to go through with this) but hope mom is willing to help me a little with my makeup before she takes them. I feel so sexy, free and wonderful right now. Thanks to all of you little darlings for making this possible. I love you all so much!
Patricia Melton - who just folded her arms above her head, stretched tenderly and shamelessly ruined yet another pair of pantyhose! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, how she loves being a girl!