Fiction: Baby Steps

What happens if you keep going that extra little bit too far...

It all goes in baby steps.

Damn, she's so sexy in those panties.  And they look so erotic just lying there on the chair, flung so carelessly in a moment of passion.  I pick them up, just to feel the soft silk in my hands.  I'm so turned on by this item of pure femininity.  I touch it to my cock.  Heaven.  Just a couple of strokes... oh, yeah, that's good.  Like my cock inside her soft smooth cunt skin.  I'm still stroking.  Uh oh.  Time to clean up.

I have defiled my girlfriend's underwear.  What can I say?  It's certainly erotic.  I just have to be careful not to come all over it again.  She'll think it's weird.  I will hide the evidence in the laundry, and forget this ever happened.

There's so much more to panties than the texture.  I like to fondle the shape, and imagine her pussy inside it, and her hips, and her belly, and her thighs.  Crumpling it up against my cock just doesn't let me appreciate them as much.  How can I feel this silkiness on my cock without wrinkling and mangling them?  How can I fondle them as if her body is in them?  I need a mannequin.  Damn, that would be pretty creepy.  I want to feel her cunt!  I want to fuck it!  Now I'm rubbing the absorbant part that's on the crotch against my dick.  Her pussy touches this!  I want to touch it!  I want to caress her ass, the curves that converge on that spot!  How can I do it?  I want this femininity all over me!  I want to be surrounded by it, in its most concentrated form.  I want to feel her body all over me.  I can't rub them on me hard enough.  I'm not getting enough girlieness!  I'm stepping into them.  I'm grinding against them, and OH MY GOD, it feels so good!  Oh my GOD, the femininity is all over me, and I couldn't get away from it if I even wanted to!  I have never been so aroused in my life!  I am worshipping her girlishness!  I am wearing her panties!  And I love it!  I can't take it anymore... And now there's a mess all over, and I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself.

Two months later.  I don't know what possessed me.  But I haven't been able to shake it ever since.  It felt so sexy.  I could imagine what it must feel like to be a girl, all sleek and smooth and curvy.  It didn't hurt that her panties are unlike anything I've ever  felt before: so ridiculously smooth, and form fitting.  I have to be careful never to do that again.  I don't want to compromise my manhood any more than I already have.  How depraved and disgusting.

There they are again, beckoning me.  I still can't believe I wore them.  They're so indescribably feminine.  I've surely broken something inside myself by wearing them.  How can I ever consider myself a true man again?  But then again, how can an inert piece of cloth possibly change anything?  It's just a little silk cloth.  So why am I so compelled by them?  Why do they make me so nervous?  Why am I so fucking horny all of a sudden?  What happens to a man when he's exposed to such overwhelming femininity?  It can't possibly make the slightest bit of difference.  I'm sliding them on, hesitantly, tentatively.  I can't do this again.  I can't risk it.  A few strokes, and I take them off.  That was easy, wasn't it?  I felt the feminine, and I resisted.  Let's try that again.  Oh God.  No.  I can't handle it.  Whew.  They're off again.  I put them away, and let's think about her some more.  How wonderful she looks in those panties.  I'm caressing myself, grinding into the bed, naked.  How amazing they felt on my hips... Oh yeah, that's much better.  Thank God I didn't wear them.

It's three months later.  I've just had a bit of a scare.  I almost wore her panties again.  Damn, it felt so fucking good!  I jerked off like crazy, but I'm still so unsatisfied.  What can I do?

I resisted enough.  I know for sure that I can control these urges.  I might as well give in every now and then, no?  That's not going too far.  I mean, it is just silk.  So what if it's worn only by women.  I can't believe I'm doing this again!  I feel so relieved now that I am wearing them.  I want her femininity!  To hell with my fears!  I want it!  It feels incredible when I picture her body, and I can feel it in my hands, too.  It's like I'm fondling her.  It's like my body is now hers!  Oh!  It's like I'm channelling her body through her underwear!  It's making me her!  YES!  This is what it's like to be female!  OH YES... What have I done to myself?

It's three months and a day later, and I've finally given in again.  I've been pining for that orgasm for weeks.  I can no longer tell myself that it was a one-time deal.  I'm sure it's perfectly normal.  I think about her all the time.  It's not like I'm becoming a fag or anything.  It just feels really good on my body.  I guess now I know why girls love their lingerie: it's all about the texture.  It's too bad that men can't have silk and satin and lace underwear that fits like that, cuz I'd wear it all the time.  I'm sure this is all perfectly normal; all the same, she can't ever find out that I've done this.  I swear I'll never wear those panties again.

It's such a shame that I have sworn to never touch those black silk panties of hers ever again.  I guess I'll just have to imagine... Just imagine wearing panties again.  Not just those black silk ones... anything!  It's so naughty!  I'd be in such serious trouble if I was really wearing panties again!  It would be so exquisite!

Damn, how I miss those panties.  It's just not the same without them.  I know, I know, it's dangerously faggy.    I know it's undermining my manhood.  But that's exactly what I fucking love about it!  I'm so naughty, I've worn women's underwear!  And I just know that it's turning me into a girl!  Oh God!  I'm turning into a girl!  And I want to come just thinking about it!

Three weeks after that last entry.  This is really starting to scare me.  Not a day goes by that I don't fantasize about putting on those panties.  The things that go through my mind!  I might as well be wearing them, for all the perverted thoughts I've had.  But no, I won't give in.  There's too much at stake.

What harm could there be if I wear these panties again?  I've done it before !  I put them on so shamelessly!  I can't believe I starved myself for so long.  What a feast we shall have tonight!

The very next fucking day!  I made a vow to myself, and I broke it.  I have now officially lost a part of my manhood.  I swear that I will never do that again.  I'll go double or nothing: I'll never give in again; if I do, I willingly accept to lose double the masculinity.  I'm that confident that I'll succeed.  Otherwise, I'll be twice as feminine, and who knows what that will lead to.

Clearly, that kind of deal will lead to me being twice as feminine.  Just think: I've only worn one pair of women's underwear, so how feminine can I be?  Imagine how much more fun it would be if I were twice as girlish?  I could wear other panties!  Like those pink flowery lace ones!  Or the sheer white thong!  I'm sorry, but with those kinds of benefits, I don't see the point in stopping.

Twenty minutes later.  That was fucking hard, wasn't it?  At least that should satisfy me for a while. 

The lacy panties are, believe it or not, even more exquisitely sexy on me than the black satin.  Now that I'm twice the girl, I get twice the fun.  I'm not beating around the bush with this anymore.  I have now reached a whole new level of femininity!  And it feels fantastic!

A month later.  I'm now drawn to all her underwear.  I've got to stop at two.  I already know far too much about wearing women's underwear than I'm comfortable with.

It's such a shame that she's wearing the ones I've already tried.  Tsk-tsk.  I guess I have no choice.  I'll have to put on some others.  Why limit myself?

Six months later.  I think I've tried on all of her sexy panties by now.  Each time I tell myself that it's the last time, but I come back anyway.  I can't let this become a habit, or she'll surely catch me in the act.

Aw, panties again?  Sure, they're lots of fun, but I want some excitement!  How about that bikini bottom?  Yes, it's a very big step, going from just innocent panties to a bathing suit.  But I'm in so deep now that there's no point in resisting.  Still, with all my experience, I tremble with the bikini panties in my hands.  This is so feminine that I can hardly fathom what I'm getting into.  Oh, yes!  This is sweet!  How will I ever explain this one?

Two weeks later.  It's bad enough that I wear panties almost every other day now, but I'm now trying on swimwear!  No more for me.  I don't care how good it feels.

I couldn't possibly do without this for 48 hours anymore!  Wasn't it only yesterday that I utterly effeminated myself by wearing panties?  And also the day before?  And the day before that?  Don't tell me now that it's not having an effect.  I'm hooked.  I'm turning into a girl!  The more I do this, the more irreversible it gets!

Three months.  I'm a fiend.  This is better than sex now.  I can't believe she doesn't know.  As long as it's a secret, I should be fine.  If she finds out, I'm toast.

Only a true girl would wear panties like this all day long!  They feel so nice under my regular yucky boy pants.  Nobody knows!  Tee-hee!  Only I know what a wretched little t-gurl I've become.

A month later.  Busted.  She cried for days.  She got amorous and started undressing me, and found her own panties in my pants.  What could I say?  There's no conceivable explanation.  So now she knows.  I don't know what will come of it.  I have promised to stop.  I only hope that I can keep my promise.

Who would've thought that a one-piece bathing suit could feel so agonizingly feminine?  I love the way it sleeks out my waist, and covers my nipples.  This is a new favourite.  Too bad about that promise, eh?  This is so radically different from just plain old panties and bikini bottoms.  And it's so unmistakably feminine!

Another month.  I'm such a scoundrel.  But it's all I can think about!  Those swimsuits are a force to be reckoned with!  Anyway, we weren't getting along.  It's too bad she had to move on, but frankly, I think I'll be fine.

I'm dying for some action!  It's time for a wardrobe.  Let's go shopping.  First, some panties.  No problem.  They can just think I'm buying lingerie for my girl.  Which is exactly what I'm doing, in a way.  The bathing suits are going to be a bit trickier.  They'll just have to wait.

A week.  I now have women's underwear in my dresser, and it's all mine.  I bought it.  For myself.  And you know what?  I'm cool with that.  As long as word doesn't get around.  I wear them for comfort, not some sick fetish.

Funny that my days always culminate in me getting sexual gratification out of my “comfortable” underwear.  Swimsuits are comfortable too, and it's time to get one.

A week.  I'll admit, it is pretty cracked.  There was no way to appear normal in a bathing suit store full of girls, shopping for a one-piece woman's bathing suit.  I was nervous, I was sweating.  They know.  They can tell.  So maybe I do have a bit of a fetish.  At least I don't know them, and they don't know me.

I miss her bikini bottom.  It was so snug and cozy.  I guess I'll just have to imagine it...

Three weeks.  Imagine their surprise when the weird guy came looking for bikinis.  Now they know for sure.  They were giggling at me this time.  They have no doubt now.  Fuck them!  At least I know what pleases me!  It took so long, too, to pick out a bra.  I have to at least pretend that I'm buying for a girl, even if they don't believe me.  It's too bad I had to get one, because God knows I'll never go so far as to wear one.  It's strictly for down there.

Now that I have my hard-earned bikini bottom on, I feel sorta half-naked.  The bra is just kinda sitting there.  I was going to throw it away.  I mean, I don't have any boobies to cover, so why bother?  Only girls need to wear those.  I tremble as I put it on.  With great difficulty.  Now, there can no longer be any pretense.  I am wearing a bra.  It matches my bikini bottom.  I'm full-on wearing a female outfit.  I am doing it because I want to feel feminine.  And good Goddess, does it ever feel feminine!  I explode with girlishness now.  I am hooked.  I give up.  This is what I want. 

Three hours.  I don't want to take it off.  I like it.  A lot.  I can't believe that I'm wearing a full bikini!  And it turns me on, even after coming three times!  This is truly amazing.  I admit it.  I love to wear women's clothes.  I love feeling feminine.  But seriously, it has to remain a secret.  I'll have to enjoy this alone. 

How could I have worn panties so long without one of these bras?  Oh my god, this is so fucking female!!  What other delights have I deprived myself of?

A week.  I just now found myself compelled to buy tops to match my panties.  I am now a consumer of brassieres.  This is completely out of control.  What if somebody saw me?

What a binge!  It'll take me days to try on all these pretty tops!  Bras, bodices, corsets, bustiers, teddies!  I'm in heaven!

A day later.  I now officially have more articles of female undergarments than male.  What a ridiculous situation.  It's not like I even really wear the gitch anymore.  I should at least hold on to it in case of emergency.

Now I have no choice but to wear panties every single day, at all times.  It's so liberating to be rid of that ugly men's underwear!  Long live lingerie!

Two weeks later.  Well, now I've got more space in my dresser.  I can't possibly go much further.  What will I do if I ever have a girl over?

I couldn't possibly be without some article of femininity for any prolonged amount of time, could I?  That's why nightgowns are so important.  Now I can sleep in lingerie, wake up, and put on some panties that I'll wear all day.  I'm such a fag!

Three months.  This is getting ridiculous.  Fags are hitting on me now.  They never have before.  It can't be a coincidence.  I'm getting carried away when I think about what my underwear looks like.  And maybe the bra shows, after all.  Too bad I don't have any guy underwear anymore, to go back to. 

This body hair is so disgusting.  I want smooth silky girlie legs.  And belly.  And arms.  I can't shave this much, and it'll grow back all scratchy.  This Nair ought to do the trick.  Oh my Goddess!  I feel so naked!  I can't believe I've done this!  This is so feminine!  I have girls' legs now!

A month.  This is getting really scary.  Now I can't even change in front of other men at the gym.  How can I possibly explain the lack of body hair?  I know that bodybuilders do it, but I'm no bodybuilder.  I'll enjoy it while I can, but it'll have to grow back.

Wow, do bare legs every look good in stockings!  I can't believe I didn't try this sooner!  It was so gross with all that hair in there before.  Now my legs look positively female.  Oh Goddess!  I can finally wear that garter belt and not be embarrassed!

A day.  Great.  Now I've worn just about everything that can be found in a lingerie shop.  I'm clean of body hair.  People can tell.  But God know I'll never admit what I'm doing!

What's the point of wearing stockings without some pretty heels?  Sandals would show off my toes.  But that's so feminine!  Do I dare?  This saleslady is looking at me funny.  Hasn't she ever seen a man browsing women's shoes?  She looks a bit uneasy and embarrassed when she asks me if I'd like to try some on.  She does not tell me that they're women's shoes.  I make up some lie about dressing up for some masquerade, but I can tell she doesn't believe me.  But it's ok.  At least I know they'll fit me.  It doesn't bother me if a few key salespeople know!  I need to keep my wardrobe up to date, after all!

Two weeks.  How humiliating!  Everyone in the shoe store now knows what I'm doing.  Not only have I bought the skankiest strappy sandals and fuck-me boots in the store, but I tried them on!  And they even commented on the stockings I had on under my jeans!  I must keep this private!  Good thing I can't even walk in heels!

I look and feel like a dominatrix in the FMB's, and a club skank or even a hooker in the strappies!  Who knew that footwear could be so sexy?  I am so overwhelmingly feminine now!  There is absolutely no turning back now!  What more can I possibly do?!?

Three days.  I'm clomping around in the mall in women's fuck-me boots, just barely covered up by my jeans.  Everybody can see the three-inch heels, and the pointy toe.  I get funny looks from lots of people.  But I also have a huge boner, so I don't care.  It's not like I'm too obvious.

The saleslady wouldn't let me use the change room to try on the clothes I'd picked out.  She said it would be improper.  I can't believe I asked her to!  I wasn't thinking, I was too excited.  The little black dress will be so stunning on me, as will the blouse and miniskirt.  It's ok, I'm sure they'll fit me anyway.  If not, I'll just exchange them!

A week.  So I've now worn it all.  My makeup skills are getting pretty acceptable.  Nobody says anything about the cut of my jeans or shirts, even though they are for girls.  I am officially a total transvestite.  I haven't had the balls to go out in a dress or skirt, but I've come pretty close.  At least I do this because I love girls.  Hard to explain how this is all a result of extreme heterosexuality.

There is something about Andrew that makes my legs quiver.  I've only ever fantasized about this before.  In public I still can't help but stare at other girls, and get jealous about what they're wearing.  I'm not even wearing a dress, and I think he likes that.  He's so flaming gay!  But there's something erotic about him, about the way he carries himself. 

Two months.  What the hell is happening to me?  I can't stop thinking about Andrew!  It feels just like it felt when I met my ex-girlfriend!  I have a crush on a man!  I can't let it continue.  I have to avoid him.

I melted in his arms when he kissed me.  I knew what he really wanted.  I clutched at his cock.  Oh, how I've longed to have another man's cock in my hand!

A week.  I'm excited about what's happening.  Here I sit, wearing a little miniskirt and a halter top and strappy sandals, wondering how I became a fag.  I think of little more than cock now.  I fantasize about it rubbing against my butt cheeks, about how it must taste.  I want to rub cock all over my ultra-feminine body.  In a way, I wish I really did have a pussy; in another way, I'm extremely turned on by the idea that I'm a flaming faggot who wants a cock rammed up his tight little asshole.  How did I become so gay!  Why do I love it so much!

I have never come so much in my entire life.  My little prick is so sore from it that it hurts to pee.  I came twice with his cock in my mouth.  I didn't know how to swallow, but what came out of my mouth I spread on his cock and his chest and lapped it all up.  I came again when he merely touched my butt cheek with his knob.  I came again when he got in all the way, even though it hurt.  Just the thought of having a penis inside me made me come, let alone actually having it there.  His pumping made me howl like a she-wolf, and come at least twice more.  Then when I felt him pumping his semen deep inside me, I came again.  We tried a few different positions, with always the same result.  He's exhausted now.  So am I, but I want more, can you believe it?  And I just know that as fun as this is, it would be even better if I were a girll, and taking him in my cunt.

We've been a couple for about a month now.  He barely satisfies me.  He's not happy about me taking the hormones, either.  He's not pleased about me growing boobs to fit into my many brassieres, and he's certainly not happy about the prospect of me having a pussy.  Tough luck!

This is Becoming a Habit

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