The Surrender to Femininity

That feeling was back again, I could feel it sweeping across me, engulfing and flooding all of my mind body and soul. It wasn't like last time, that was curiosity, this was something more, something deeper, more profound and tantalizing. My heart thundered, body quaked, for a moment I resisted the urges, but I could never do it for long, I needed this, like a junkie needs their drugs.

Every part of my body was now aching, my mind softening, teasing me, my whole perception changing, I could think of only one thing, and that was to embrace the wishes and slip into something feminine. I strode across the bedroom, drew open the top drawer, my eyes immediately falling upon the silkiness of the tan stockings, the flecks of silver within them was as alluring as diamonds. I breathed deeply, composing myself, i hadn't even managed twenty four hours this time, but I knew it just felt so right, on every single level, my character, my persona everything about me, internally and externally cried out for this, to sample, feel the embracement of femininity.

My hands touched the surface of the stockings, it was like liquid gold, my head swooned with delight, I wanted to become female, to live that way instead of this stupid, rough and unattractive gender of masculinity. That had been a mantra throughout my life, no matter how hard i had tried to escape it, I found the male form crude, unattractive, even depressing, but to have that body embalmed in soft feminine delights, made me feel, fuzzy, relaxed and vibrant, it was one of the reasons my marriage/relationships hadn't worked out. I'd discovered that genuine females disliked those males that sought femininity, even when they always reckoned they could handle it, when it came to push, they couldn't, which was a problem; because I wasn't gay and circumstance didn't allow me to change, live my female live 24/7.

For a moment I just stood there, my naked, slender, smooth body, glistening from the lavish use of moisturiser , my hands holding the tan shimmering stockings, fingers lightly caressing the tops. It was strange how my nature had grown, how my feminine side appeared to drive all aspects of my life, the hopes that in time I would grow out it, had long since gone, now I was indulging, living the role and accepting of my nature, even if those around me, wouldn't or couldn't.

Gathering that first stocking up in my hand, feeling the lush fabric, the sensuous nylon brush against my fingers was so calming, so relaxing that one could if laid flat almost drift into a peace, serene slumber. It never fails to amaze me how the buzz of my feminine character always responds, how my mind and body just slips so easily into the desired wish, nothing has changed from been a kid of six, who nervously went about hiding away to dress, the same delectable sensations still exist, the only difference is the urges and desire have grown stronger these days.

Sat upon the bed's edge, I slip my foot into the welcoming domain of nylon jaws, feeling the material encompass and mould itself to my shape, its soft seductive charms grow as slowly, it is inched up, embracing flesh that is hungry to feel its wanton magic. So the first leg is fully embraced, the second has begun my lower body is vibrant, my mind enthralled, relaxation comes over me in waves of pure delight, every muscle in my body loosens and aches just float away.

I cannot do it justice, to explain how it makes me feel, to let the true me expand and release, to be free from the narrow mindedness of those that do not understand or don't want to. It awakes emotions within me that are deep and profound, brings forth the craving, want and desire to exist in this form for the rest of my natural life. The suspender belt sits snugly around my waist, the clasps are drawn taut and hold the stockings firmly, seductively in place. For a moment I just stand there, a smile on my face, and glimmer of delight in my eye, this is me, the true me coming out and I adore it so much.

Dressed in tanned, glimmering stockings, matching suspender belt and white fine lace/satin panties, I soak up the bliss of that moment, knowing there is more to come, the trapped female within me is yearning for release and in truth, I want her released. I slip into a black pencil skirt, feeling it brush my nylon clad legs as it ascend, a caressing hand of loving devotion perhaps is how my mind sees it, or how I wish it was. The air of confidence that my body feels is astronomical, from head to toe, I feel as though finally I'm sinking into the creation that not only I want to be but the creation that I should have been.

My eyes fall upon the matching bra, my body tingles with anticipation, there was no going back, not now, threshold pasted, even if I wanted to, but I didn't, this was about me, my indulgencies, my addictions and my wants. In my hands the bra feels silky, sensual, I've learnt so many times how to fasten these things, that it is second nature and no longer present a fumbling problem. Gel padded, it automatically gives me soft curvature shape of femininity, I feel the straps hug my shoulders, the band tighten across the chest, clasps close into place, my upper body trapped within its delightful domain. How my head sways, my mind relaxed, body light and vibrant, the feel of femininity sweeping over me like a tidal wave of bliss, I can even smell the lingering aroma of perfume, engulfing my sense dragging me deeper into the luscious illusion that is womanhood.

All that remains now is skirt, blouse and shoes, all three are waiting for me, tempting me, calling me to let them grace my body and for a while at least become that person which I truly desire to become. The skirt is black, pencil type, a split up the rear that advances about half way, its length just above the knee's, the material felt like, lined with silk just to give that extra swish and delight as you step forward. I breathe deeply, move forwards to pick it up, every movement I make causes the suspenders to stretch and give, tightening drawing the stockings up, stretching them over the smooth waxed flesh, the ripples encompass all over me, alighting, vibrating every inch of my body.

The skirt slid up easily, silk caressing the fine material of nylon, alighting, devouring the flesh with sensation of sensual bliss and euphoria, my body became a vibrating delight, sweeping sensations wrapping themselves around my lower form, like a calming breeze relaxing muscles, soaking them in pleasure and delight. Fastening the skirt, feeling it tighten against my narrow, slender waist, hugging my body just above the curving hips the feelings were beyond blissful, my eyes momentariously closed, as my mind let everything sink into my body, seeping into my soul.

I looked at the room, through almost glazed eyes, the sensations had never changed, never altered, perhaps gaining in strength over the almost thirty years that I had been dressing, each time my body adorned something feminine, I experienced something new, something more profound and deeper in the psychological and character value.

There few items left, just blouse and shoes, of the latter my favourites had to be the knee high, three inch heeled boots. They were a recent addition to my wardrobe, but were the ones I would automatically go for as they were the most comfortable, the down side been of course that wearing them I was well over six foot, so a very tall, slim girl! As for tops, well lets be fair, one could never be say I was short of them, I have everything from blouses to cami, through to jumpers and slips, in fact one could say I have to many, if such a statement was truly possible.

I studded the array of blouses, looking for something that would match something elegant, sexy, not tart'ish like; my fingers paused on the black, silk short cami top, which hung up with a matching blouse, though the blouse itself was a two shaded, see-through, full sleeved one, both in a dark black colour.

Drawing it out, holding it against me, for the first time glancing at the reflection which stared back. I smiled, as my eyes fixed upon the budding female, my body pulsed with pride and delight, I felt good, looked at least half ok, the figure almost hour-glass, though at times I still desired that much self promised corset, which as of yet I still hadn't got. Slipping the cami top over my head, drawing my arms through its design, feeling the material brush my chest, drawing it down till it hung properly, the bulging bosom of my feminine breasts, now covered and looking more realistic, was a stunning delight that pleased the mind.

The see-through blouse type top was next, one cannot escape the feeling, the overwhelming delight of been able to dress, to feel the female desire, pose and mind sweep over your entire body, to engulf and consume you with such delight, the surrender to femininity was now almost complete, the sparse use of makeup, foundation, lip gloss, blusher and eye shadow enhancing the appearance and providing a final, enthralling gaze of how I truly, wanted to see myself every day of my life.